The Tale of Ben Adarwayne
by Spondylus
Summary: Ben was not as incompetent a professor of divination as he seemed. His success in his ruse led none to suspect that the fate of two worlds was his burden. His mad exploits changed the tide. This short series of tales handed down from the few he trusted are all we have left of how he strove to create a powerful magic and sacrificed his own future to save ours
1. Prologue: Blur and Magical Tom

**The Tale of Ben Adarwayne**

 **Author's Note:**

Thanks for taking a peek at this. Please feel free to lend any advice or opinions. I'd appreciate any feedback. The main story is set in the world of Fantastic Beasts. My approach to the LOTR is more abstract. I had it in the back of my mind, but in no way have tried to shoe-horn Ben into the role of Tom B. Just some aspects I toyed with. Past, present, or future, nobody seems to know who he is or where he came from anyways. I'm not sure how much sense it makes, maybe someday I'll go back and try to make it flow a bit more, but I think it reads as a series of short acts or stories that culminates in the end and creates a new entity.

 **Prologue to the Prologue: Blur**

Professor Black always regretted taking on a professor of divination with such a questionable background and uncertain affinities. He still looked back on the night that he interviewed Ben Adarwayne with a bit of confusion, and wondered if, in light of what he knows now, he would have made the same choice today. The displays of his skill during the day of the interview were formidable. The normal tricks employed by seers could not explain what happened either, whether they were in view of all the faculty and students that attended his demonstrations, or later in that room one-on-one. From that time on, however, although he was Adarwayne's superior as Headmaster of Hogwarts, with not insignificant resources and knowledge, it still bewildered him to meet Ben in the hall. Professor Black always responded to Adarwayne's cheerfulness with a bit of unease and felt somewhat off balance when around him. Adarwayne always returned either an overly-delighted air, or extraordinarily blank response, neither of which left Black feeling like he had an impression he could read Adarwayne. Professor Black found the fact that he had such difficulty connecting particularly distasteful.

Each time Professor Black pondered that first meeting, he wished that he could remember it more clearly, and wondered whether there could have, perhaps, been another choice. He had not been able to remember everything from that interview with a great deal of certainty. Another choice could have been a better one. Adarwayne had… issues.

At the moment, though, Professor Black was particularly annoyed because there should have been no reason to miss the evening that was supposed to crown his long years of service. All the other professors were present for the ceremony. This of all other nights was the most important of his career, because he would retire at the end of this school year. This was his final meeting with the whole faculty and the trustees together in one room. Finally! After this he could relax and carry out his last few months and drift off with ease and grace, handing his obligations on to the next Headmaster.

He was about to give his speech, but paused because he was struggling to recall some memories that had just started to struggle to creep to the surface as he gazed around the room. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it. What most disturbed him and came to the forefront seemed to be the memory of that night he sat with Adarwayne for the first time. The memory that seemed to have eluded him until this very moment.

The interview had not gone well. Ben Adarwayne was shabby and seemed a bit unstable, even as far as seers go. They retired to Professor Black's office for a one on one conversation at the end of the interview day. As soon as the door shut, Black's sense of unease and annoyance was accentuated by the peculiar muggle attire Adarwayne wore and his habit of staring without blinking, not laughing at the appropriate times, and laughing at irony. The muggle clothing was shabby, but exceedingly formal and, at the same time, seemed dated and old fashioned, but muggle nevertheless. This seemed odd, particularly to one who always expected his professors to wear the most formal of wizard robes, which would seem extremely outlandish in the muggle world.

Professor Black just couldn't surmise what it was about Adarwayne that was so off-putting to him. It could just be that Adarwayne did not inspire confidence through charisma and confident good looks, the type of shallow personality toward which Professor Black tended to be drawn. It also seemed that an aura around him seemed to blur, as if in a vision in which the eye keeps slipping off the subject. It was as if he were out of focus, or something was amiss with the perception of time. As they sat down at the table to interview, Professor Black kept catching his own reflection in a mirror just off to the side of his vision. It was as if the mirror to his left kept nagging at him, trying to catch his attention, but he couldn't quite catch it when he glanced at the mirror. He only saw it out of the corner of his eye. His image seemed to appear as a skeletal apparition. When he glanced at the mirror directly, he saw himself, but always Adarwayne's reflection smiled disturbingly back at him. When he looked back at Adarwayne, his interviewee was stoic and did not smile.

"So, I've read your application materials and have discussed your qualifications and the results of the meetings with the rest of the committee." Black announced officially. "And I've decided to hold off on a decision…"

As Black stared at Adarwayne, an apparition appeared next to him. It was a vision of a young boy. As he focused on the ghost, he realized it was his older brother Sirius, who had died some fifty odd years earlier at the age of eight years old. The apparition motioned toward Adarwayne with his hand. "Choose him or you will die tonight." The apparition whispered.

"Are you all right, sir?" Adarwayne broke the pause in Professor Black's sentence.

As Professor Black still stared at his brother's apparition, dead these many decades, knowing it must be a hallucination, he muttered. "Yes, of course, I am quite all right. I just remembered something from a very long time ago." Black dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, trying to dispel the vision.

Adarwayne and the apparition of Sirius both turned their heads and looked at one another. They both turned back to Black, smiling. They spoke in unison. "If you hire me/him, you will not die this night. You will survive until four months from the day that I miss your banquet."

At the last word, Professor Black fell forward in a faint, hitting his head soundly on the table before him.

When Black drifted back to consciousness, Adarwayne was also lying face down on the table before him, apparently unconscious. When Black looked around the rest of the room and ended with a stare into the mirror. What he saw in the mirror this time, however, was Sirius standing beside him where he sat. Sirius, however was not present next to him in the room. Sirius reached out of the mirror, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the mirror.

From the mirror, Black could see back out through the pane of the mirro and into his office as though through a haze. He looked down at his brother who said "This is your future." And Sirius faded from his vision. Black was stuck, standing, and staring ahead into the blurry vision of his office.

He stood there for what seemed several hours, unable to do anything but stand and stare. Once and a while he would yell and plead for help. After what seemed several hours, Adarwayne woke, stood up and walked to the mirror. He lifted an eyebrow and said. "Well, do I get the job?"

"Yessss." Black could hear his own voice come as a whisper.

Adarwayne reached out his hand and pulled Black back through. Professor Black found himself unable to recall all the details and his mind was in a bit of a blur, but he knew for certain that he must commit to hiring Adarwayne. The rest of the interview seemed to be normal… almost as if he were reading from a script. He offered the job and received immediate acceptance.

Later that same evening after the interview, during a meeting of the school's faculty, Professor Black stood and stepped forward to announce that he had offered the position of Professor of Divination to Ben Adarwayne, and that Adarwayne had accepted. As the newly appointed Professor Adarwayne stood and the rest of the faculty applauded, a chandelier came crashing down on the Headmaster's empty chair where he had been seated just moments before.

And now all these years later, he finally remembered those moments with a clarity that had seemed to elude him up until this very moment. Today, a day that was supposed to be a joyous banquet signifying the peaceful coming of the end to his sentence as Head Master… he stood before and amongst the tables crowded with all those gathered to honor him, and could only stare at the one empty seat.

 **Prologue: Magical Tom**

November, 1924. The street was bustling and packed with muggles. Archon hated having to wade through the filth. Rushing, rushing, rushing on their way to nowhere for nothing… and what do they produce… more muggles. He fantasized that they should be stepping back and bowing to make way for him. Ironically, he smiled, he could make that happen. He had no doubt, however, that something like that would attract the attention of the ministry.

Archon passed this way on practically a daily basis. He routinely took this path on his way to work because he had a weakness… a weakness that hurled him helplessly into the muggle world. He liked the small spiced rolls from the small bakery on the corner. For some reason, they weren't as good when they were 'magicked' up. No rolls today, but his errand made it necessary to cross this path on his day off. Right now he just wanted to get home with his prize. Then he would prepare himself for a special gathering to present the stone to Andromeda Rosier. This would allow him to gain access to the inner circle. It cost half a fortune. Luckily, he was not spending his own money to get it. He just had to prove to the prior owner that he had a generous heart. He eventually had to kill the man anyways. Oh well, not the first time.

The prize was an ancient stone sphere, of which, as some wise teachers had once told him, were so old, that they were made by druids. Others say they came from Atlantis, or even from far beyond the sea. All those old myths are no matter. What Archon did know, is that the stone, cairngorm, a particularly valued form of smoky quartz, is mined at great cost from mountains up in Scotland, from whence the material gets its name.

Pieces of cairngorm this large are exceedingly rare, and to be flawless enough to then make a stone for seeing is even more so. Once formed under the right process, they can be magically transformed into an object known as an enabler. Enablers help create linkages between places, time, and space. That is why they, and less rare, inferior forms of quartz, are used as crystal balls for divination. The rectangular case was locked securely and tethered with magic to his wrist. None of the muggles would notice it, or even him, since he and his box were thus enchanted.

As he stopped to use his wand to remove a smudge from his shoe, a flash on the storefront window sill caught his eye. He reached over and picked up a dull stone. Nothing special about it, except that it appeared to have been carefully balanced on the sill. Why it would have appeared to sparkle, he did not know. The odd thing was that it seemed to 'pop' out from between his fingers like a slippery watermelon seed, and shot down the side street.

He habitually lunged after it and found himself twelve steps down the side street. He caught himself as he stumbled up in front of a storefront with a small group of people standing around. Archon peered over them to see what they were gathered to see. He saw a tattered, cardboard sign next to a sleeping, dirty hobo. The man was clothed in what was clearly a mocked up, torn and stained magician's robe. The sign said:

Magical Tom

Quick Trick: One Pence

Beautiful piece of magic: One Shilling

The sign was posted above a broken, cracked briefcase. The briefcase had legs, so it stood like a little table. One of the legs was shoddily tied with a strip of cloth, and its inadequate repair and poor positioning made the table tilt. A dirty handkerchief was thrown haphazardly on the top. No passerby would have wanted to look too closely, for fear of what could possibly be in that handkerchief. The elderly hobo lying on a cobbled-together bench, or what could have been a cardboard bed, looked almost corpse-like. Most people visiting the area would have averted their eyes as they passed, so as not to be involved with what could have been a crime scene. He apparently lived and slept on the filthy sidewalk in front of the storefront. One would think any self-respecting store owner would shoo him away, thought Archon.

Not having any muggle money to speak of and not caring to have to spend time just waiting to see some pathetic muggle sleight of hand, he began to turn to get back to completing his errand. He had seen this 'magician' many times before, sleeping on his trash heap or sitting and talking to the unfortunate local children or workers. He had never stopped to see the magician's act. One of the small audience shouted at the sleeping man. "Hey Tom! I've got a penny for a quick trick!"

Archon turned back and thought that since he wouldn't have to wait, this might be amusing. He watched as the bum woke up, turned and realized he had an audience. "Oh my goodness my sweet. Did your mother say it was OK for her beautiful daughter to spend her hard-earned money?"

Archon looked down at the child. She was a hideous atrocity. Her face had been scarred and burned across her nose and left side. Her hand was claw-like and useless, likewise scarred. Fire from a stove had caused pain and worry that would lead to a lifetime of struggle and pity. Archon whispered under his breath, "He has an odd idea of what qualifies as beauty."

"Oh Tom, I'd rather see your magic than have a piece of candy." She said. Her mother stood above her and smiled and nodded.

"Well you are an odd one indeed m'lady." Tom took her penny. Most of the audience knew he would find a way to slip it back to her.

Magical Tom held out his hand and spoke in nonsense gibberish, ending in "zip-zip, zipparoony." He did a clumsy job of palming something from his coat with his left hand while his right distracted the little girl. When he held out his hand, he held a necklace made of pigeon feathers that iridesced in the sunlight. In the middle of the strand hung a larger, red feather.

Archon thought he recognized that feather. It looked like a phoenix feather. He leaned closer to get a better look. He was bumped back by the applauding crowd, humoring the magician.

Magical Tom hooked the necklace around her neck and she beamed a smile back at Tom.

Archon was repulsed at how horrible it would be to have those filthy feathers around his own child's neck. "Well… when you live in filth, perhaps you get used to it." He mumbled.

Another in the audience spoke up and said, "OK, Magical Tom. I have a shilling here. Show us some beautiful magic."

A twinkle appeared in Tom's eye and a smile on his lips as he reached out and took the man's coin. He looked at it before looking back up and saying, "All right, then. I'm going to make this coin appear in that young ladies pocket." He said, waving the coin around in a flourish.

The man who gave the coin said, "You'll have to do better than some sleight of hand trick for that, Tom. I'll want my money back."

"Don't you worry, fine sir, you will be quite impressed and satisfied." Tom replied. As he waved his hands around and pretended to slip the coin in a side pocket, it intentionally slipped out of his hand and bounced on the ground, landing at the girl's feet.

As Tom acted distracted and pretended to try to make the coin appear from behind a lady's ear, the little girl picked up the coin and put it in her pocket.

"And now! Smoogabooga Bim Bam Boom! Young lady, will you please turn out your pocket?" Tom asked, turning to her.

The little girl put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the shilling coin. At the same time, the coin-giver laughed and said, "All right, now Tom, that's not good enough."

Tom held up a finger, to indicate that they should wait and be patient as he winked at the crowd.

He got down close to the little girl and whispered to her, "Breathe on the shilling m'lady." As the little girl breathed across the coin, the coin glowed and the phoenix feather fluttered in a sudden wind.

The little girl looked up and said, "What's supposed to happen?" As she did, the crowd began to gasp as her scars faded and her other hand reached up to cup the trembling coin, uninjured.

"It's a miracle!" shouted the girl's mother and several others in the crowd. Oddly, they all immediately forgot about Magical Tom. Except the little girl. She looked up at Magical Tom most astonished of all as the people crowded around her to see. Her face was smooth, without any scaring.

Archon looked up at Magical Tom, himself astonished. Now, Archon began to feel that there was something familiar about Magical Tom, "How wonderful that you produce miracles for these miserable people." Archon said, only loud enough for Tom to hear.

Magical Tom spoke sadly back. "One small miracle is surely appreciated. The problem is the corruption of a kind act by trumpeting it from the rooftops. You and your friends use such obfuscation to prey on their misfortunes while you plot to subjugate them. All people deserve dignity. Our indifference makes us culpable… just short of the guilt you bear for the murder you just committed"

As Archon cocked his head sideways, considering the curious, distasteful, inexplicably-aware response. Tom was looking back at him, with a smile cracking on his lips. He held up a small, dark, crystal sphere with swirling, grey clouds, exactly like the one Archon had in his box.

The crowd was pushing to see the little girl and pushed Archon backwards. Tom made an announcement, although only Archon was paying attention to, or even remembered him. "I will now take this, my very valuable and special crystal ball and make it into two crystal balls." The cardboard and paper of his make-shift bench/bed and other scraps lying about started to shred and swirl around Tom as he produced an authentic wizard's wand.

Archon's eyes popped open as he saw first the glowing orb, and then the wand. He glanced down at his box, thinking that Tom had somehow stolen his prize. Archon tried to lunge through the crowd, drawing his own wand, but when he got there, Tom was very difficult to make out through the maelstrom of paper and confusion. Tom, nevertheless, quite surprisingly handed Archon the sphere. In his panic and confusion, Archon took it, then knelt down to open his box to try to replace his sphere that had somehow been removed. When he peered inside, he could see the original sphere. He looked in his other hand and Tom's sphere was now a dirty orange ball. When he looked back in the case, the sphere there had become an orange ball as well.

He looked back up at Tom. Magical Tom stood smiling back at him with a wink and a nod. He had a cairngorm stone in each hand and slipped them in his pockets, and disappeared in the chaos of swirling paper and pushing people.

Archon lurched up and stumbled forward in disbelief and tripped on the same pebble that had initially led him down this side street. He fell smack-down on his face after slipping on a smudge of grease. He was immediately pinned down by Magical Tom who held a wand to Archon's temple.

"Archon, my dear boy. I'm surprised you don't recognize your old professor." Tom rasped in Archon's ear from above and behind. "But, you didn't have the gift, so didn't pay much attention. Unfortunately for you, you will not remember this conversation. What you will remember is that Magical Tom knows that you have committed murder and he took something from you. You will eventually remember the cairngorm stone, but there will be something that eludes you. You won't be able to lay your finger on it. It will haunt you. It will mingle with an unabating hunger and ceaseless feeling of loss. It will drive you mad, murderer." He rasped the angry accusation into Archon's ear

Magical Tom slowly pulled a wispy tendril of silvery smoke from Archon's temple, stood up and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

The amazed audience wandered down the block, overjoyed with the miracle that had happened, but had not noticed the struggle and had forgotten Magical Tom. The only one with a memory of Magical Tom, now, was Archon, but he only recalled a wasted few moments watching a sloppy, cheap performance… for the time being. He stood up, brushed himself off, grabbed his case that he now misremembered still carried a cairngorm stone. He would receive a shock and a vague recollection later in the presence of his master.

Archon would waste many days of many weeks searching for Magical Tom, wandering the streets in frustration. He would also hunger for something he's forgotten. A craving. Things did not bode well for him. He would never be able to see the bakery looming before him, but he could smell it… and he would never find Magical Tom.


	2. Chapter 1: Dumbledore's Dismay

**Chapter 1**

November, 1926. The suddenly empty hallway struck Dumbledore as slightly odd and left him standing with a perplexed, expression. He wrinkled his eyebrows. "That's odd." He mumbled. The door to his office, where he stood, was now the only occupied space. As he gazed down the long expanse, he could see and almost feel the dust still moving from the frantic motion of students rushing to classes just moments ago.

As he gazed into the distance, pondering. He gradually became aware of another presence. An apparition emerging in the distance took the form of a face peering around the corner at the far end of the corridor. As Dumbledore watched, the figure proceeded to emerge from the side passageway, appearing first to lean, then to stumble into view. Maybe it was more of a dance than a stumble, but of someone so constantly distracted by his surroundings that his course was continuously changing. Ben Adarwayne, whose recent series of mishaps and absences had been strange, even for a professor of divination, made his way down the hall. He made his way toward Dumbledore's office as if half in a trance, and half studying his own footsteps, but when he brushed his hand over a window sill, a small, fossil brachiopod shell was left on the surface. The meandering path he traced down the straight hallway seemed intentional at some points, while at others, it seemed like a random wander. Some pauses resulted in brief contemplation of a surface or an empty doorway. Twice he reached out and left a stone on a sill or bench.

Moments earlier the hallway was a bustling throng of activity that Dumbledore was pretending to observe as he pondered events punctuating the recent crisis. It isn't uncommon for the halls to clear out as classes start. This current emptiness was odd because of its immediacy and the sudden, total lack of stragglers… and now, the immediate appearance of just the person with whom Dumbledore needed to have a serious conversation. He just didn't want to, especially not at this moment. He had been beginning to appreciate the moment of solitude. He'd rather have used it to ponder if there were a way he could get himself to New York City to try to defend his friend from what is clearly an unjust sentence for a trumped up accusation. It was almost as if a slight breeze blew in and hurried all the students into their classrooms.

As Ben approached, his eyes paused on Dumbledore's silhouette, but there was no acknowledgement until a few more brief stops were made and he stood before the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Albus, we need to talk."

"Ben, it's good that you came out of hiding. You rarely come out of that tower. We were beginning to consider sending Stella in to see whether you had entranced yourself with one of those crystal balls."

Ben squinted his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "There will be a time that you will wish that you could ask me a few simple questions about what the hell is going on." He curtly walked past Dumbledore and into the office. "It's also good that you are worrying about Newt. He will be an important friend and ally in the struggles that are unfolding. For now, don't worry. It is to his gain. His current predicament will help ensure that he is better prepared for the test ahead." As Ben turned to face his friend, his expression solidified from a far-off look, to then focus on Dumbledore.

"Are those prophecies?" Dumbledore replied with a tinge of irony. "It has taken me a number of years to get used to your sense of humor and non sequitur responses. How is it that you are aware of Scamander's predicament?"

"You use the word prophecy like it is synonymous with the absurd. Please forgive me if I'm frequently not focused on the present." Ben paced a circuit around the room and breathed a word that resulted in a flash of expanding glow.

"Ben, I have nothing but the utmost respect-"

"Stop Albus, I work hard to make it all seem as uncertain as possible… so I can't blame you for your prejudice." Ben was now smiling with a strange aura of confidence. "Let's cut the crap. You need to listen to me. First, take this and put it in a place that it will always be with you." Ben handed a small, coiled ammonite fossil to his colleague.

With eyebrows raised in surprise, Dumbledore held the ammonite up in his fingers. "Ben, I intended to call you here to have a conversation about why you've been cancelling your classes and why part of the stairwell to your tower collapsed. Several professors would like to resolve whatever issues are precipitating before some of us feel the headmaster needs to get involved. There are people that think that the study of divination isn't a worthwhile endeavor." He made sure that Ben could observe as he slipped the ammonite into the pocket of his robe.

Ben nodded and smiled as he continued. "I assure you, Albus, that I have the full confidence of the Headmaster and I would have the full confidence of his successor, should I decide to remain that long, although as far as the discipline… his successor will have second thoughts about replacing me. But even then, it won't be until many years after I've left the position vacant."

"You say that as if you know that, but you're not putting on the 'seer' act."

"Well, not this time, but hey, don't knock a good theatrical show. I usually charge extra for those sorts of frills. We spend years perfecting some of those affectations and watching can be quite amusing for the audience." Ben paused with a smile. "Don't mock some of those poor folks that receive their messages unbidden. Some of them really do get possessed by your odd spirit or two and… well… that's just downright gives me the willies."

"But Ben, that's your discipline."

Ben laughed outright, throwing his head back. "Oh my goodness Albus, you and your bloody sarcasm. Most of the practitioners of my discipline… the people you are thinking of, focus on interpretation of external signs… and get it mostly wrong." He said while waving his arms around." Let's just say I don't need to put on an act. I live with the future constantly looming before my eyes." He made a wavy, circular motion with his hands in front of his eyes. "It's less about speculative interpretation and more about visualizing a probabilistic framework, influencing outcomes, and planning ahead."

Ben continued as he stopped roaming the room and stood still. "I don't want to have to fool you to get your trust and consideration, but be assured, I do need to have your confidence. With my help, you will gain a more profound understanding of such complex systems and how to affect a result with the least invasive of surgeries."

"Ben, you are jumping topics again and skipped prefacing this new conversation with adequate explanation. From what I can follow… that is… what I presume you are speaking about, is not a new concept for me. You have to admit, however, that you average quite a bit less than one hundred percent in your predictions."

Ben smiled, as if proud of his successful ruse. "The path I walk requires a certain amount of anonymity, and because of that, I hide out in the open by acting somewhat less than competent." Ben winked an eye. "Why would our enemies worry much about a bumbler."

"I would never even consider that you were anything but one of the top seers of our time and you expertly guide our pupils in understanding the art. What I have need of, for now, is to have a serious conversation with you. I intended to cross examine and lecture you about your recent problems, but you are steering our conversation in a very odd direction. You don't have to defend your record."

"I certainly do not. Although, I will say, I doubt you think there are many, if any, true seers. Be that as it may, tonight you will join me in my conspiracy whether you like it or not."

"What's going on, Ben?"

"How much can I trust you?"

"What are you getting at that would require you to pose such a question? We are acquainted with one another as well as one may expect, considering we are both professors here of more than a few years, including serving on committees and close interaction in research. Not to mention a good number of pints and bottles down the gullet. I feel confident that we strive for similar ends and we thus share a great deal of mutual trust in one another. Let's say I trust you as much as you trust me." Dubledore paused for several seconds. "What's your game?"

"OK. All right. Here's the deal. Dark wizards are going to destroy our society and hundreds of millions will die and muggles and everyone opposed to the dark wizards will be enslaved." Ben finished in one breath.

Dumbledore stood silent for several additional seconds, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Whew." He breathed out. "That's all you've got? You can't come up with anything more pressing? The sun isn't going to explode? You know that I'm doing what I can to help in the capture of Grindlewald."

As Ben began to speak, he slowly turned and began to pace a slow, measured circuit around the room. "You're right… it sounds crazed, but hear me out. I've been watching a very long game unfold before me and there has always been a way to fine tune events along the path to bring about a fair and just result that would be in good faith." Ben paused for a few seconds while pondering his words and scanning the edges of the ceiling around the room. "That is to say… that suits my sense of right. I don't want to say that I am enforcing my will upon the world, but I just want to do the right thing, and I think you and I have a similar sense of what is fair and just and in good faith. To put your mind at ease, I've never felt that I had to do anything that would seriously affect peoples' lives, except in a very general way for the best… and there have never been innocent lives directly at risk."

Ben paused for several seconds before continuing. "I now see every possible outcome leading to a death spiral in which the dark wizards succeed."

Dumbledore walked slowly around his desk, contemplating his response. "Ben, I know it may seem hopeless in times like these, but the problem is just in a minority. The greatest majority of wizards will not abide the hell you think you are seeing. The wizarding world will not sit by and let that happen. We've got to keep our heads and common sense will eventually take hold."

"Albus, you don't understand what that minority, as you call it, is willing to do. We've already gone past the tipping point. The playing field is no longer fair and the board is no longer set up in the way you think you perceive it. You will lose your head, literally. In a meaningless way."

"If that is the case, then what do you propose?"

"I have to forge a new array of possible outcomes. In order to enable new possibilities, I have to create a path by which we can propagate new variation. The resulting futures may still all be bad, but I've run out of choices." Ben paused, considering his next words.

"The tricky thing," Ben continued, slowly. "is that I need you to cover me, but you need to remain mostly ignorant of my toil and deny any involvement, no matter what apparent imperatives may arise."

"Ben, you are sounding delusional. We are doing fine… and are on the verge of capturing Grindlewald and many of his minions. Maybe you need to take some time off."

"We're not doing fine. You have no idea where Grindlewald is. We've already lost. Tonight I will save your arse." Ben banged his hand on a side table as he said this.

"I'm mainly committing this next act because there are several items involved that I need… and it will postpone some of the dark times. Your involvement is an added benefit because it will hopefully also convince you that I am not a charlatan and you will support and help conceal my work."

"Ben, Please get a…"

The conversation stopped because Ben disapparated. Dumbledore's expression turned from one of bewilderment, to amusement, to stunned disbelief.

"Now, how the hell did he do that?"


	3. Chapter 2: Celtic Knot

**Chapter 2 Celtic Knot**

A damp, cold, cloudy mist seemed to permeate the atmosphere at the stone circle in the midst of a wooded area in Wales. Sixteen tall granite monoliths surrounded a circular, grassy area. A large altar stone on an earthen rise dominated the center of the circle. The top surface of the altar stone was covered with a soft, irregular, damp cushion of sphagnum moss. The unmanicured setting seemed naturally clean, ancient and weathered, but untouched by degradation and fragmentation. Trees in the surrounding copse of birch and oak stood silent vigil over the timeless permanence of the circle, reaching their branches upward and inward toward the altar stone, waiting to witness some solemn act.

A pathway down to a small river ended with two gigantic willow trees with weeping branches that formed a curtain-like entrance at the embankment. Ben apparated between the two willows, walked through the willow branch curtain, and up the path to the stone circle.

Outside the stone circle, he wandered a randomly seeming path through the grass and small trees, dropping small objects. He then proceeded to walk around and within the stone circle, in a very businesslike manner, scattering small seeds and scanning the surfaces, as if searching for something. As he worked, he collected and positioned loose boughs and stones in a manner reminiscent of arranging art on the walls of a room. Underneath the main altar stone, he found six cockroaches that were subsequently corralled and transfixed with a wand and then sat obediently to wait. Ben mumbled "my sincerest apologies." as he moved on to the next task.

Most of his time was spent maneuvering a partially fallen tree leaning against another tree into a different angle. Aside from the cockroaches, all of the other work within the circle was nonmagical. Branches pulled back and tucked tensely behind other branches and boughs of small saplings that had sprouted within the circle. Small foot-sized holes covered with a few fallen leaves. Several small scrapes in the soil and rock filled with grease and sap. Rocks balanced overhead in boughs and on the edges of the large standing stones.

After several hours, Ben stood at the entrance of the stone circle and shut his eyes. The night's events to came flooding into his mind and vision. He looked up at the altar and walked over to adjust the position of one branch of a sapling that grew within the circle. Then, with a satisfied nod, he disapparated.

Moments later, two wizards, a man and a woman, apparated at either end of the altar stone.

"You're sure nobody knows we're coming here?" said the woman in a whisper as she scanned the surroundings and waved her wand, searching for signs of magic.

"I only decided upon this site two minutes ago. Over the last several weeks, I've been able to divine that there has not been a wizard or witch using this site for several decades. I have had this and several other unused and dormant nexus archeological sites under observation for several months. There's no way anyone could have known we were coming here. Besides Gellert, only you and I know the full extent and purpose of our work. Our partners that will join us will only learn their parts as we begin the process and as they need to know their parts. This act will bring the ministry to its knees." The man responded and proceeded to cast warding spells and incantations to guard the area from observers and intruders. For all outward appearances, the location disappeared from the mundane world and all searching eyes.

The woman, named Andromeda, circled the altar stone, and when she had become satisfied that they were adequately protected, she raised her hand over the altar stone and chanted incantations to set wards of strength and protection.

After several minutes probing and sensing to evaluate the results of their spellcasting, Andromeda broke the silence. "OK, let's call the others and prepare for the summoning. We have a long night, Mizar, my dear friend. I think you made a very good choice."

Mizar nodded his head and raised his wand to summon the conspirators. Masked dark wizards started apparating in eruptions of smoke, stepped over to Andromeda and Mizar and started receiving instructions.

In several minutes, the copse was filled with two dozen wizards warding the stones. Numerous boxes and crates were stacked around the altar stone and technicians began to carefully construct a complex metalwork of an elegantly bejeweled, towering gold scaffolding. Spaces surrounding this construction on the top surfaces of the altar stone were cleared of all debris and moss. Some of the debris was conjured into natural sphagnum pillows for the heads of reclined individuals that would presumably fill the four spaces.

The four "beds" formed a border around the base of the central, golden scaffolding. The central area was transformed into a square, pyramidal space filled with the gold latticework. The latticework ended at the top with a claw-like apex that could support a slightly larger than egg-sized object placed between the points of its four claws.

Andromeda and Mizar consulted over a very old-looking, partially unrolled parchment that had a carefully drawn diagram of the latticework being constructed before them. She looked admiringly at the work.

"It's actually much more beautiful than I had imagined, especially in this sublime setting." Andromeda whispered in a self-satisfied hiss. "After all these months of planning and forging these different parts with my own blood and sweat, it's hard to believe we're just a few short hours from being able to eliminate our enemies by just speaking a word."


	4. Chapter 3: I Mewy I'r Tan

**Chapter 3 I Mewy I'r Tan**

Four hours later, the sun had set and the two dozen masked, dark wizards had started a vigil around the altar within the circle of stones. For four more hours, sixteen of them stood, one by each stone, meditating and imbuing them with power for the ritual about to begin. Four more wandered within the circle, knitting together a lacework of lines of force connecting the altar stone to the sixteen standing stones. The last four stood around the altar stone, using their wands to trace patterns onto the bare rock.

A great crystal sphere of cairngorm smoky quartz four inches across now rested in the claws at the apex of the metal latticework. The smoky color swirled with diffuse, indistinct apparitions that shifted, merged, and split in a random, continuous flow. Each of the four wizards that stood around the stone wore a white, faceted gem hanging from a silver chain across their brow.

After the long vigil, one of the four standing at the altar, Andromeda, raised her hand and spoke. "It is time. Our lambs are in position." She and the three around the altar each faced to their right and walked counter-clockwise in an exchange of places. She now stood at the side facing the entrance to the circle from the path. All within the circle faced the entrance.

"Bring them!" Andromeda commanded. The sixteen standing stones flared to life with a hissing reddish glow. Four individuals suddenly appeared within the circle before the entrance. They were all in various states of surprise, snatched from the midst of some activity. The sixteen hurried forward and with a brief struggle, four wizards on each captive, they apprehended and bound the new arrivals. Each of the new arrivals were carried to the spaces made around the altar and laid in the places prepared for them. They were bound, paralyzed, and conscious, only their open eyes moving. Each of the four dark wizards around the altar unsheathed their daggers and displayed them to their victims.

A misty figure appeared before one of the four wizards who had completed the connecting lines of force from altar to stones. All four of these wizards had taken their station standing alongside the pathway between the altar and entrance to the circle. Two on each side, facing one another. The misty figure congealed into a translucent, corporeal form and turned to the prime wizard of the four and spoke. After a few words, the mist disappeared and the wizard ran to speak with Andromeda. She now stood at the side of the altar with her back to the entrance of the circle. The wizard announced in a loud whisper with his head down and a nervous and subservient tremor "The Ministry is aware of us and has found us. They are coming."

"Ai, how did they find us so quickly. We are warded and hidden. Someone in your group must have betrayed us!" Mizar exclaimed.

Andromeda looked over to him across the altar and responded in a serious, business as usual focus. "That's not likely my dear." She glared at Mizar, daring him to continue his accusation. "I would suspect that one of our sacrificial lambs may have some traceable object. I told you to have your people search them." She returned with a bitter snarl. "No matter. We are prepared and it is too late to stop us. Guards to your places. You will be protected by the warding. We still need to hurry. We have to spill the blood."

The sixteen hurried to their places, this time standing between the stones, facing outward. Ghostly figures appeared beyond the stone circle and began approaching the perimeter. Spells began hitting the warding shields, but the wards held and the sixteen stood stoically and patiently.

Dumbledore, working with several dozen aurors was helping direct the attack to probe the defenses and focus on the weakest area of the shield wall. "Can anyone make out if Grindelwald is among them?"

"We don't see him right off, but we can't be sure." Said the chief auror, Humphreys, who stepped up to Dumbledore. "We think we see Andromeda and Mizar around the main altar stone. They have the minister and three others, the chief of Gringotts, and two important muggle politicians. They appear to be preparing some ritual sacrifice. We can't say whether it is just for the dramatic effect of the killing, or whether there is some magical outcome."

Dumbledore peered toward the circle. "I'm afraid that there is some powerful magicking afoot. Once we are done here, we need to review our process of taking inventory of these stone circles. These are quite powerful axes and confluences. From the look of their set up, and from my understanding of ancient ritual magic, the placement of the victims, priest-kings, clerics, and witnesses… this appears to be some sort of summoning."

"Summoning? Of what?" asked Humphreys.

"Not knowing what their overall goals are, I could only speculate. I'd at least venture to say that it would not be something any of us would care to tangle with." Replied Dumbledore.

Andromeda's voice rose from within the stone circle. "Humphreys, we sense your presence. You and your people should leave now." Her voice paused for just a moment. "Oh, never mind, it's too late."

The shields around the sixteen monoliths fell and Andromeda and Mizar and the other two wizards at the center commanded "Éclat!" with a shout in unison. The glow of the stones suddenly flared and a concussional wave of bright, swirling force exploded outward from the circle of stones. Every person in the auror group was blown backwards and lay unconscious on the ground, buried in singed debris. Several were crushed beneath falling trees.

The shielding wall around the circle immediately snapped back into place with a word in unison by the sixteen masked wizards between the stones.

The watchers stared outward for several more seconds to make sure no-one moved. The surroundings became quiet and the dark wizards turned back to their work. Each of the four around the altar took their daggers and plunged them into the stone above their victim's head in preparation for the blood-letting.

Unbeknownst to those within the stone circle, a new figure had appeared, and silently, stealthily moved through the fallen aurors in the trees. He crawled slowly to one of the prone figures and took out his wand and passed it over the body. "Albus" he whispered. "Take a deep breath and lay still for a few moments."

Dumbledore slowly roused and turned to look up at the figure crouched over him. "Ben. What happened? How did you find us? Oh my head." He let his head fall back to the soft earth.

"Let's just say that the same little bird that told you about this little gathering, told me. Try to remain still, Albus. That was quite a wallop. Try not to pass out. Breathe. You do need to pay attention for the next few minutes. As soon as I stand up, things are going to get a bit animated inside that circle. Keep your head down, but watch."

As Ben spoke, his eyes flashed bright blue. "You will know when I'm done." Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise.

Ben continued with his blue, glowing eyes. "That concussive pulse activated some carefully placed protective and healing charms in the vicinity of where each of your friends landed. Once I'm done, you should act quickly and rouse them. You need to direct them to capture and bind what's left of these dark wizards… at least the ones that still may not be secured. The hostages should be OK, but their headaches will be worse than yours. I could not leave any obvious spells active within the perimeter of the circle. I will try to manage that the effects of the next explosion you see will not leave the confines the stone circle… by much."

"Ben, how could you possibly penetrate that wall and defeat two dozen powerful, trained, dark wizards?"

"A little foresight and good planning." Ben said reassuringly, but with a little tinge of irony. His gaze lifted and his glowing blue eyes shifted to a long, trance-like gaze. "And it's always good to use and redirect the energy your opponent has created to fight your battle for you." The next few moments flashed through his mind and he stood, raising his arms toward the circle and uttered a spell.

"Germinare!" The stone monoliths flashed, then dimmed. The wizards within the circle took heed of the power drain and worked to stabilize and buttress the power supply, but the energy still seemed to wane. Seeds within the loose dirt began to germinate and the seedlings began sapping the power of the stones and connecting lattice. The seedlings grew into grape vines that twisted and elongated along the invisible lines of power that laced between the monoliths and the altar. The vines writhed and coiled, at first unobserved by the conspirators focused on their complex task and vigil.

The watchers between the stones facing Ben noticed him and focused their wands on the lone wizard approaching the circle. Surprised that anyone was left standing after their display of power, they were prepared, but they were confident that he would not be a threat. Any lone wizard, no matter how powerful, would be unable to penetrate this circle. "Begone, lest we flatten you too." Shouted the watcher closest to Ben. As he watched, Ben continued forward. "Looks like you have a death wish. We'll just have to kill you when we've finished." Mumbled the watcher.

Ben knelt down and put his hand to the ground. As the grape vines reached a critical size and were creeping up to their quarry, they sprang forward, coiling and writhing around the legs of all of the dark wizards that were focused on other tasks within the circle. The light from the stones, web of lines of power, and light emanating from the altar area dimmed. Except for the light in the center of the altar that had been emanating from the golden latticework, only a dim light shrouded the area. Ben, with his hands on the ground uttered a word of power and the ground shook, shifting the entire circle area back and forth by several inches. Trees bent and swayed while stones rocked and lurched.

Ben leaped up and sprinted toward the circle. Rocks rained from above and most of the struggling wizards fell unconscious as vines wrapped around their limbs and falling objects struck their heads. The ground shaking dislodged one of the large stones at the entrance to the circle, which fell outward and smashed through the shield wall. The shield failed with a "pop."

Several wizards struggling with vines hurled curses toward the glowing-eyed figure sprinting through the entrance to the circle. Ben easily dodged and parried the curses and paused just within the entrance. Several wizards not unconscious and not succumbing to the vines stepped up to face Ben. Two stumbled in holes that were hidden under leaves and fell flat on their faces, and subsequently were engulfed by the writhing vines. Several others slipped just slightly… enough to misjudge their distance to the vines and also became entangled. "Kill him!" shouted one of the four wizards still standing at the altar stone. The four wizards grabbed their daggers and prepared to slit some throats, thinking that perhaps if they completed the ritual, they could salvage the moment and eliminate this threat. Curses flew through the empty space where Ben had been standing just a moment before. A moment later, he reappeared, standing upon the gold latticework and reached his hand toward the Cairngorm sphere.

"Stop!" shouted Andromeda, "Mizar, stop him!"

Four wizards besides the four standing around the stone were still free and capable of acting. They dashed toward the altar stone. A very large bough that had been leaning against a tree came crashing down, killing two of them before they could reach the altar.

The four wizards at the altar dropped the knives they were about to put to work and, along with the last two wizards that drew up to the stone, raised their wands, aimed them at Ben.

"Stop right there or we'll make you wish you were dead. If you lift that stone, you will destroy yourself."

Ben reached his hand toward the stone as six enchanted cockroaches leaped up into the air from below the altar and flew up and around the lip of the altar toward the latticework.

As one, the six wizards screamed "Crucio!"

Ben looked down at them with anger flaring in his eyes "That was not nice, you miserable prats!" He smiled and grabbed the stone as six cockroaches that had coincidentally been flying around him writhed in pain and fell toward the surface of the altar. Ben grabbed the cairngorm stone and jerked it from the claws that held it.

The ritual circle area, including the sixteen stones, became a pillar of burning light and all the careful construction crumbled to a shattered mess. As this happened, a large ruby set in the ring on his hand flared to life, encompassing him and the four hostages. The fireball resulting from the interruption of the rite and destruction of the energy-saturated mechanism exploded outward and upward. The force broke the altar stone and blew the standing monoliths outward. The concussion was held to just beyond the circle. As the explosion subsided, Ben stood above the broken altar stone and broken lattice-work, holding the cairngorm sphere.

"Accio." He commanded, and the four white gemstones bound to the brows of each of the, now unconscious, knife bearers flew to his hand. With a sweeping motion, gazing across and taking count of the dark wizards, he muttered "Obliviate."

Ben gazed out at where Dumbledore lay watching, propped up on an elbow, and then disapparated.

Dumbledore stood up, finally being able to move after getting the wind knocked out of him and being partially buried by twigs and leaves. He stumbled up the path and into the, now knocked over, outward sprawling, and quiet stone circle. Small bits of smoldering, glowing ash were still falling from the sky. In the center of the ring, he turned a full circle to survey the devastation. Bodies covered and bound with the now, unmoving vines were burned and bloodied to different extremes, either dead or unconscious.

He waved his wand to begin the process of disarming and securing the dark wizards before any of them had a chance to recover. He soon came to realize there was no worry about that happening very soon. Then he turned as he suddenly remembered the pressing need to help his colleagues. They needed to be revived quickly. They then needed to secure the situation and repair the area. He mumbled bewilderedly, looking around at the interrupted rite and realizing its implications, "This surpasses everything. I am good and gob-smacked. We are totally unprepared." As he looked up and took a step toward where Humphreys lay, he noticed the sudden appearance of a lamp approaching the darkened circle. "Oh Bugger. We are totally unprepared." Reporters from the Daily Prophet had arrived.


	5. Chapter 4: Superwizard

**Chapter 4 Superwizard**

 **Superwizard Single Handedly Saves Minister and Defeats Two Dozen Powerful Dark Wizards.**

By Dorcas Slatt – Wales - Last evening in the Ordovices Hills, two dozen dark wizards wanted for serious crimes kidnapped the Minister of Magic, the Head of Gringotts, and two important muggle politicians. They were attempting a powerful ritual summoning that would have clearly involved murder. Their hopes and careful preparations, however, were dashed upon the arrival of none other than the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore, currently Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts. How he accomplished this will apparently remain largely a mystery, because of the fiftyish people present, there were apparently no witnesses. Mr. Dumbledore will not discuss the matter. As the result of several powerful explosions, all other parties were rendered temporarily unconscious or dead. The surviving dark wizards that could be interviewed before being taken away by the Ministry's aurors were a bit confused, rabidly angry, and could not recall what had happened… so they say.

Upon arrival at the scene, this Daily Prophet reporter, Dorcas Slatt, witnessed Mr. Dumbledore standing wand-out. He stood amidst the devastation he had so recently brought down in the act of stopping the evildoers and bringing them to justice. Large oak trees were blown down, all of the twelve-foot tall standing stone monoliths were toppled, and the large granite altar stone was cracked in half. Debris from the interrupted spell casting littered the site, destroyed, while two dozen very adept dark wizards were bound, unconscious or otherwise incapacitated. Mr. Dumbledore did not sustain a single scratch.

Just prior to rushing out to selflessly help the Ministry's "crack" team of aurors that had been rendered unconscious during their initial attack, he was heard to say "This surpasses everything. I AM good!" He also mentioned that the aurors from the ministry were totally unprepared.

Two of the evil wizard conspirators were Andromeda Rosier and Mizar Mawbray, who are two of Gellert Grindelwald's top henchmen. They, along with the other surviviors are now in custody. Four of the conspirators died from strangulation or being struck by blunt objects. All of the Ministry personnel survived with slight injuries, apparently because Mr. Dumbledore had the foresight to place numerous protective and healing charms strategically around the site. Many lives were saved.

The Ministry hopes to learn more of the captive evildoers' plots as the criminals are interrogated. Head Auror at the scene, Sweeney Humphreys, is quoted as commenting "Last thing I remember, we were attacking their shields. Albus! What did you do?" Mr. Dumbledore was tight-lipped and refused to answer that question. He clearly doesn't want to give away whatever secrets he has hidden up his sleeves.

As for now, the world is a safer place, thanks to Superwizard Albus Dumbledore. And after viewing what was left of the scene, it appears that dark wizards certainly have an adversary that they will find as a formidable pillar standing in their way. With Mr. Dumbledore stepping up to take care of things over here in Britain, we are now several steps closer to solving the dark wizard problem.

Dorcas Slatt

The Daily Prophet

Dumbledore threw the paper down on the desk in front of Ben. "All right, you've got my attention. Could you please explain to me what happened last night? We were totally unprepared." The newspaper almost knocked down one of numerous crystal balls lined up on pedestals on Ben's desk.

"I know… you feel that you were unprepared for what happened last night. It says that right here in the paper… sort of." Ben responded as he quickly steadied the smoky, clouded crystal ball. "You were… and are unprepared for the whole crisis in general. I have already read your article. Superwizard. That's fantastic." Ben replied very enthusiastically as he moved his line of crystal spheres away from the edge of the desk.

"We very likely should have ended up dead." Continued Dumbledore.

"Worse than that. You might have even become a victim of the Imperius Curse. You would have been up there doing the Can Can with the rest of them. And then you would have still, eventually, ended up dead."

"And what's more… you are apparently some sort of superwizard."

"Now Albus, it clearly says here that you are the superwizard. You're just going to have to accept that and learn how to live with it." Ben leaned back, smiling. "As for my part, let's just say I had a moment of clarity… and that helped. And, don't forget the benefits of planning ahead."

"This will put a target on my back. I had been hoping to provide support for the effort for what we thought was an isolated incident, but now I'm in neck deep." Lamented Dumbledore.

"Better you than me. For goodness' sake, Albus, we're all in neck deep. In regards to the happenings last night… you'd either be dead, compromised, or neck deep anyways. Would you rather that I had changed your memory so you thought you'd actually accomplished all of that? That was an option I had considered."

"No, Ben. I'd just rather feel that I was a participant rather than a leaf blowing in the wind."

"You are certainly not, Albus. Perhaps not a leaf that is discarded… although I must say that leaves do fall to the ground and return to the soil, thus fertilizing the ground in which the tree grows. More like a seed that floats on a pappus, ready to germinate and stand forth in the world." Ben absent-mindedly waved his wand and produced a watering pail that watered a small, silvery barked white bay laurel sapling growing in a pot near the window of the room."

"From here on out, I promise," Ben continued, "you will be much more in my confidence. You do, however need to keep up the act as far as being responsible for the victory of the Ordovices Hills. The benefit is that I can continue my work with much greater potential impact and you will have… well, me. Although what you saw last night was sort of a temporary state, it comes in very useful from time to time. I am not in a permanent state of seeing. Could you imagine what would happen to my sanity?"

"For now," Ben slowed down a bit. "we have a bit of breathing space since last night must have curtailed a major initiative. Additionally, Grindelwald is in custody in New York, for the time being."

"What? Custody in New York? Did you drop by in New York after your escapade in Wales? What does this power of seeing tell you about Grindelwald? What would he be up to there?"

"Yes indeed. The news should be crashing our shores… well… this very day. I see it through my omniscience. So well, in fact, that it is the second story on the front page of this very paper. You could share my same foresight if you could only read past the article about yourself. You will have to make sure you meet Newt as soon as his ship arrives."

Ben continued on a more pressing subject. "What you need to focus on for the time being, is that the roots of our greater problem are much deeper than you had suspected and we need to resolve it in a much more holistic sense." Ben got a far-off look. "Our greatest problem is that there doesn't seem to be a pathway to resolution that doesn't lead us into a long period darkness. A victory in a small battle does not eliminate the danger. It may take many years"

Dumbledore interrupted in angry frustration. "And there you are. This is the problem. You are speaking of dangers that are not apparently extant and in terms of prophecies that are proven to be unreliable and open to interpretation at best."

"Well, then if that's the case, I'm not asking for much, am I." A tinge of sarcasm finished Ben's response.

"You haven't asked for anything and you haven't explained anything." Dumbledore interjected impatiently.

Ben raised his hands in mock acquiescence. "OK Albus, From the perspective you've been taking, the main problems have been solved and we can go back to living our lives as usual. So since everything is peachy, I'd just like to get your assistance in a little experiment that will require the Fidelius charm." He said somewhat sarcastically.

"Ben, I'm taking this quite seriously and am not brushing off your warning. Please just bear with me as you bring me up to speed. The implications of the attempted summoning last night worry me to a very great extent. This was no spontaneous troublemaking or distraction. It shakes me to my foundations. The participants were quite prominent and came from a wide array of known subversive organizations and different countries. I think they were trying to create something that would be a weapon from which there would be little or no defense. I doubt it would have worked in the way that they would have wished, but they had every intention to find out. Plus, they got close to completing the process. That kind of risk, knowing the individuals that took part and seeing the individuals they kidnapped is quite chilling. I am listening" Dumbledore sat down in a cushioned chair

Ben stared at Dumbledore for several seconds, perhaps considering the constitution of his colleague before continuing. "You are correct in the fact that it would not have worked in the manner they would have liked to have employed it. It would have been something that would have created quite a messy and unpleasant cleanup. Once their plans came into focus, I looked into the background of the process and found some ancient references that clarified the results of several previous attempts. Not pretty."

He leaned forward on his elbows cradling his forehead in his hands. "I'm sorry to say that it would be impossible for me to give you a list of the sources of our current danger that could be remedied. It would be nice to have such a list and just be able to go down it, solve them, and check things off. The danger is real, but it aggregates and breaks up. It concentrates and diffuses, rises and falls. It is a will-o-the-wisp."

"You are losing me again Ben. I am familiar with the issue. I don't know if you are aware, and I hate to admit it, but there was a time that I was drawn to those ideas. I know how seductive they may seem. I am aware of how even those of us with the best of intentions can be convinced that enforcing our wills on the muggle world would be for the greater good. How have things changed at this juncture?"

"You're right, Albus. My point is this. The current crisis is one that has existed throughout our history and probably cannot be resolved for at least several more generations. It is not something that just popped up. Like I told you before, I am playing a long game. There will be victories and defeats that are short term gains or losses, but we have to plan to live on this planet for millennia, and not just live for the short term gain of the few. My apologies for getting preachy." Ben ran his finger through a small tray that held several large gemstones as if they were helping him consider his words.

"Not a problem, old friend." Said Dumbledore. "I guess I just have faith that we can weather those shifts back and forth and keep the ship steady near the middle and away from the insanity of either side."

"That is an ample metaphor, although it is not realistic to try to explain the issues in terms of there simply being two sides, black and white. So here is what my vision has revealed. As you realize, I am not omniscient. I am very good at sleight of hand and guessing what will come next, but I rarely can see so clearly as I could last night. On a very uncommon occasion, in the short term types of my visions, there are moments when I feel like I am walking and watching myself place my feet in my own footsteps. That is indeed a rare circumstance. Last night was a powerful and important nexus. It was brought into a fine focus and I could not ignore it. You don't need to worry that this sort of foresight is happening at this very moment and continuously. I would be quite mad if that were the case. When they do come, I act. I cannot command the ability to come forth. I have tried. And you're right, I do get things wrong from time to time." As Ben pondered his next steps, he tapped his fingers together.

"For the long term, the visions may come in fits and bursts and the farther off, the less reliable they are. The thing is… that there is usually an array of alternatives that surround a strong vision. I have searched and searched, and now all I can see is that even the alternatives are bad. So for what it's worth, I will warn you that in many ways, this discussion will not satisfy your curiosity. In one vision, Grindelwald succeeds. In another one he fails, but his movement will continue and will eventually lead to an even greater downfall… a failing of all of our sanity." He stopped, still running his finger through the tray of gemstones, as if it could help him see.

"Attempting to narrate every permutation of every scenario would not leave you any more convinced. Nor would it convince me. I am realistic." Ben stopped there without a satisfying conclusion to his case.

Dumbledore let the last phrase hang for half a minute before he spoke. "I do believe you. The main reason is not all of this pontification or speculation or condemnation, even though I may agree with much of it and even in the light of your most powerful potential prophecy. The reason is that when you sprang into action last night, your eyes glowed blue. I had seen that sort of symptom once before, and the subsequent events were almost as stunning and astonishing as what happened last night. A demiguise. How you managed to end up with such an extraordinary ability, who can say? Can you?"

"No. My parents tried to cure me. Quite unsuccessfully." Ben appeared very engaged and interested in the comparison to a demiguise. "You'll have to tell me about this… demiguise."

"I will. And I will say this. I do trust you and will help you. If I didn't, I'd hate to see you with different friends and different sensibilities and not at my side. Maybe you can help me understand what you intend to do… and convince me it is indeed for the sake of good and in good faith. We don't need to solve all the world's problems tonight. Please, just don't leave me standing in the crosshairs of fame again."


	6. Chapter 5: Kleftis Crat

**Chapter 5 Kleftis Crat**

April, 1927. The man struggling in the crowd with his load put down the wooden crate he had been carrying and stepped up on it to make an announcement. "I have a fascinating and sad story to tell you fine people. You need to hear this!" Normally that was the type of announcement that would be ignored by the rushers-by. His declaration seemed to boom out over the crowd, who were generally numb and immune to panhandlers and beggars… and nut cases who made all sorts of crazed declarations for hours on end on the crowded streets. He declared his intention in a very loud voice to the crowd rushing through Picadilly Circus. That voice demanded that they stop and listen. Very unusually and surprisingly, they complied. All of them did. Everyone within sight stopped and turned toward the speaker.

"I have a little poem to recite to you." Said the wan looking middle aged gentleman in a tattered magician's cloak. The gray hairs hinted to a certain amount of age, but he had a youthful appearance in general. He was somewhat thin, dirty, and hungry looking. "Please let me know if you enjoy it. I will begin momentarily." He yelled loudly enough for everyone to hear in the crowd, over the traffic, and perhaps, even as far as the statue of the winged greek god on the fountain in the middle of the circle.

He shuffled his feet, testing the stability of his box, cleared his throat and began with a whimsical chant…

"Kleftis Crat got off his mat

And did not brush his hair.

With a crick and a crack, he stretched his back,

And thought life was so unfair.

An "E" for an "F" and a "U" for an "I"

The midwife Nun misspelled his name

His folks said for goodness' sakes, Nuns don't make mistakes,

Kleftis is the spelling, though Cleetus is the telling, but his occupation became the same.

This morn he sat upon a stool and finished up his gruel,

He thought oh my, what a day it will be.

I'll get those gits with jerks and fits

And kill them with a fiddle dee dee.

His life had been rough, but that made him tough

'Cause he didn't have to pay no mind

When he felt like takin' he had no problem with breakin'

Some bones and kickin' 'em in line

Mum and Da had given everything they could

They loved him and coddled him so.

When he had the chance he took an advance

And killed them for their riches of gold.

When it came to love, Kleftis lucked out with a shove

Because he thought he could have love and worth.

But the love of his life moved on in strife,

When he married to an heiress of great birth.

True love wouldn't play second fiddle and get caught in the middle

When he said he would see her on side stage.

She married his best friend

And she loved him till the end

But the end came quick with Kleftis's rage.

Kleftis snuck in at night, sleepers didn't make a fight.

He made it look like it was done by a naif

They didn't know what hit 'em

The authorities couldn't get him

And he stole a great green jewel from the safe.

In the end in his calamity he lost his sanity

His wife still loving him as was her station

She still cared with a cost, but he was lost

He left because he didn't have an ounce of compassion

Now this morning when he woke, in the mirror the other bloke,

Winked and said today is the day

Some new friends had come around

And him they did astound,

Like a king he would live they did say.

The heist he had to pull was steal a prize from a fool

That thought charity made a better man

The chap tried to help Kleftis

Through generosity and kindness

But Kleftis killed off his whole clan.

You see Kleftis blames the fortunate, for himself not being fortunate

And he hates and loathes all that love and reap

So he'll help to fix their woe by lending succor to their foe,

that will place him right on top of the whole heap.

The whole point of the production was to take a tool of mass destruction,

And bring to a place right near the ministry.

Set it off with a firey bang and confuse the whole gang

And his new friends could then milk the misery

Today he killed and stole his prize, But the ministry did get wise,

So they've been after our poor victim Kleftis Least

Unfairly chased him all the day, he's run his porridge all away

Now he's a hungry, mad, and angry crazy beast.

So my poetry may be tripe, but indeed if you've a gripe, I shouldn't have need wasted all my rhyme

Kleftis Crat was offered love

From parents, lovers, and gen-rous guvs.

But he spurned it every time."

Magical Tom waved his arms as in an exaggerated bow while very faint, lame applause trickled from the crowd. No coins.

Kleftis Crat stood in the audience, glaring at the poet, his mouth hanging open in a disbelieving, incredulous sneer. Kleftis was a filthy, dirty, sweaty mess. The crazed look in his eyes completed his expression, that was now slowly alternating with a perplexed smile that hinted that his mind had snapped. Who in the world was this fool on his soapbox telling MY story? He thought.

Nobody knew those things. He thought.

Nobody could have known. He thought.

Not about his parents. He thought.

Not about Jennie. He thought.

Not about the theft and murders he had just committed. Well, maybe someone did know about that, that's why the ministry's been chasing him… but who in the world was this person that seemed to know so much and that had made such a grave mistake with that terrible poem.

Not that it mattered, because the fellow only had seconds to live. He was going to take as many of this crowd down with him. While doing so, he would have some fun with this chap. Who is he calling dirty anyways, he looks pretty rough from living on the street. "I think I can snap you in half." He muttered as he lost his composure and control.

Kleftis raised his wand and cried. "Tiltowait!"

As the spell started to take hold, the poet raised his wand and focused on maintaining his own form as the world around him began to fall apart, twist, and melt.

From the crowd, one of the audience members shouted, "Hey Tom, show us a magic trick!"

With his free hand, Ben waved and the crowd disappeared. They were an illusion. In order to focus on not being destroyed by Kleftis's spell, he had to release that illusion.

During the recitation of his poem all of the members of his audience and everyone in sight suddenly had the compulsion to make their way away, not noticing the illusion and the entranced insanity of Kleftis Crat and Magical Tom. In the surrounding area, everybody approaching found some reason to take a different route. They were also thus spared the fate of having to listen to Magical Tom's poem.

Kleftis didn't notice because he was focused on tearing the miserable world apart that contained this strange man on the crate. He also hadn't noticed that this strange man had transformed into Ben Adarwayne. Of course Tom and Ben looked alike anyways.

Smoke started to emerge from the fringes of Ben's wand, clothing, and head. A worried look started to creep across his face. The building and the ground around him were blurring and swirling into chaos. Ben stumbled down from his crate as it burst into flames, then melted. He regained his balance and got a grip on the destructive spell. It wound around his wand as he swirled around in a circle, as if he were spinning candy floss. The energy shot to his free hand and flitted away in the form of a fritillary that flew off and landed on the statue. There was sweat on his brow and he was shaking visibly.

Kleftis continued to pummel Ben with deadly curses. Ben was beaten slowly backwards, across the empty roadway of the circle. Kleftis had finally managed to look up and about and noticed that the crowd had entirely, inexplicably disappeared. That didn't deter him from continuing to destroy his quarry.

Kleftis circled Ben so he was now between Ben and the fountain. Kleftis was so quick with each new attack, that Ben could only manage to parry and defend himself… barely. The roadway split and melted, caught fire, leaped up, grabbing Ben's feet, gripping him and holding him in place.

In a brief pause. Kleftis stepped forward with a grin, smelling blood. He hadn't noticed that the winged bronze statue in the middle of the fountain had come to life, flown towards him from behind, nocked a gilded bronze arrow, drew the bowstring and screamed with a golden, ringing voice "Ekdikisi!"

At that moment, Kleftis straightened in surprise as he heard the voice behind him, but he didn't have time to turn. The arrow went straight through his heart and ended its flight with the arrow head end sticking out of his chest and the flight end sticking out of his back. He fell dead on the roadway.

Ben pulled himself free from the melted, gripping roadway. He walked over to the dead body of Kleftis. He nodded at the statue and the statue nodded back as a look of anger faded from its face and it repositioned itself at the top of the fountain.

Ben removed a large emerald from one of Kleftis's pockets. He also pulled out the device Kleftis had stolen that had been intended to protect the whole city from overhead attack by magic. Kleftis had intended to use it to incinerate the crowd packed into the streets hereabouts.

Ben gathered his things and limped slowly away. The aurors arrived several minutes later to find an empty Picadilly Circus, except for a dead thief and murderer with a golden arrow through his heart.


	7. Chapter 6: The Beginning

**Chapter 6. The Beginning**

January, 1928. About a year and a half after the battle of the Ordovices Hills, students strolled by on the walkways surrounding a not-quite-so-empty as it appeared, green lawn in the middle of a college somewhere north of London. They made their way to their classes. Young men in their suits and ties, young ladies in long skirts. Some of the striped jackets of the gentlemen and large hats of the ladies indicated they were off to some luncheon later that morning that might include a group photograph. Other students rushed by hastily. Several were trying to keep on the path and dodge, whilst not bumping into other people and, at the same time, trying to skim their assigned reading at the last minute. The black- and gray-stained sandstone walls were covered with ivy that surrounded and engulfed the windows. The ivy climbed upward, reaching toward the chimney pots that emitted their slowly-rising exhaust upward, before curling and drifting to the east and south toward the channel. None of the students of Pembroke, or the odd young professor of ancient languages sitting on a bench, noticed the two robed wizards standing on the damp green lawn.

There was no bowling on the Bowling Green during that moment of a damp, late January morning. The Bowling Green is revered for its history, so regardless of the wet grass that would dampen shoes, people respectfully avoided walking across it. Of even more importance is the fact that this site marks a confluence of energies. It isn't just coincidence that the grand and ancient university surrounds this site. In regards to the un-noticed wizards, even if there were bowlers, the space off in the corner where they stood no longer existed. At least not in a way that would interfere with a match. What's more, a match could no longer interfere with that space. It was hidden.

"All right Ben. You have what you wanted." Said Dumbledore as he put his hand on Ben's shoulder. "You still can't let me in on what it is you will be doing. What is this that is so important that you can't let me in? I can't know any more? Have you even allowed yourself to be privy to this information?"

"I'm pretty sure that, for the moment, I have to bear this burden alone." Ben replied. "Over the next several years, we have our work cut out for us, and this will be for me to tend. Don't worry… I'll be around to teach my classes and help out with the odd emergency or two. You will certainly be busy enough that this will hardly cross your mind. As for me, It's not like I'll be camped out here permanently. I will only need to come back to tend my work three times."

"Hmm… four parts to the process." Let's see if I can narrow it down."

"Stop Albus. Don't waste your time trying to investigate this." Ben warned with his hands up in a cautionary pose. "It would be best if you just put it out of your mind. It will be many years before this comes to fruition. I do appreciate your willingness to commit to my folly and to be willing to not interfere. As secret keeper, I'm trusting you to not only help create and maintain this space, but to be willing to remain ignorant of my travail."

Let's not get back into another discussion about trust, Ben. We each know where we stand… and on that note, I leave you to your 'activities.' Whatever they may be." Albus stepped back and began penetrating a bubble-like boundary.

"Thanks Albus." Ben said, without looking up.

Dumbledore gave a reassuring smile that went unseen. As he stepped back into the real world, a young professor on a bench looked up from his writing, but just missed glimpsing Dubledore as he disapparated, leaving an empty lawn. All that was left was a misty morning.

Unbeknownst to any faculty, staff, students, or visitors, Ben knelt down opening an ornately stitched, jewel-encrusted, and embossed leather and tartan sporran. Out came a dark crystal ball of cairngorm. The inside of the sphere was somewhere between transparent and translucent, swirling with cloudlike shapes. Then out came another, and another, then four more. He laid them out in a row before him, considering the good fortune that he had taken the job as professor at Hogwarts. When he arrived, three of these spheres already resided in a dusty drawer with a broken handle. The drawer didn't even shut all the way. They should have been secured in a vault. Another he had stolen from a murderer. That murderer still wandered the city of London, lost and hopeless. One more came from a muggle antique shop where it was being sold as stylish room decor. The last one had to be fished from the bottom of the Don, near Aberdeen.

Next came out the gemstones. Six of them. He lined them up on a piece of cloth he set out in front of him. One more he un-clasped from a gold ring on his finger to make seven in all. He had inherited the ruby ring from his uncle who died of consumption when he was a child of twelve. A note had arrived by post in a letter to his parents when he was just starting his second year at Hogwarts. It informed them that his mother's brother had died. His grandparents, who had moved to be close to their dying son, sent it along with several other items to be distributed according his uncle's wishes. Nobody in the house could believe that a child of twelve years would be left with a valuable gold ring holding such a large ruby. Only he knew it was because during Uncle Carl's final visit to his sister's house, Ben had shown a concern and compassion that others seemed to overlook out of their uncertainty of being around his terminally ill uncle. After dinner, his uncle was sitting alone. Ben was concerned about his apparent dejection, so he took his uncle into his bedroom and showed him his entire collection of muggle stamps. His uncle sat interested and engaged for two whole hours as Ben proudly and excitedly turned page after page and pulled out envelope after envelope.

Of the other gems lined up in front of him, one he had stolen from a vault in Gringotts. "Fortius Quo Fidelius." He murmured and chuckled. "So much for security." He held up the large blue stone and said "Thank you very much." The last one he got from his "very dear friend," Kleftis Crat. He had very nearly come to the end of his existence in obtaining that particular emerald. Of course, the other four he had retrieved all at once, along with one of the cairngorm stones, from a 'merry band' of spellcasters that wanted to call themselves kings.

Numerous pieces of gold scaffolding and framework came out piece by piece that was not altogether dissimilar from the model used by those conspirators in the Ordovices Hills. He laid them all out in front of him very carefully, so as not to mar their polish and keep them in an organized pattern on the ground.

Ben then turned the sporran up-side down and shook it until a pot with a small white barked bay laurel many times larger than the bag was pulled from its confines. "There you are. After four years of waiting, you are finally home." He murmured to himself as he inspected each branch and brushed sporran fuzz off some of the leaves.

Using his wand, which transformed into a shovel in his hand, he dug a hole and moved the root-ball of the tree into the hole. Ben knelt down and finished positioning the tree, carefully burying the roots and pressing the soil down firmly. With a wave of his wand, a watering can appeared, and saturated the soil around the bare trunk.

Ben then went to work constructing an elegant three dimensional clockwork frame. The central part included a box with a keyhole that contained gears. The curves of the thin, metal-strutted framework that were attached to the gearbox were shaped in bending and flowing, natural forms of an old-fashioned, for 1928, Jugendstil style. Silver and gold metalwork swept up and around the small trunk and above the highest leaf of the small sapling. Numerous extensions of the upward-reaching metalwork ended in large claw-like stands. Between these alternated ray-like spikes that ended in clasps.

When the construction of the metalwork was completed, Ben placed one cairngorm sphere in each of the claw-like stands. He then took each of the gems that were set into a bezel with a bail and clasped them to each of the rays. Four of them were white stones while each of the others were green, red, and blue.

After inspecting his handiwork, he produced a key from his pocket, set it into the center of the gearbox mechanism and turned it four complete times. He then placed his hands into the dirt around the base of the construction and chanted very slowly and steadily an ancient poem in an ancient language that spoke of ships and kings, stars and stones. The tree seemed to respond with silvery, white light that started to glow from the trunk and the edges of the leaves.

He stood up, bringing his hands up and around in a great circle with palms facing forward, wand held between his fingers. He held his wand high above, then brought it down swiftly, to tap the highest leaf of the laurel tree as he spoke the final words of the poem.

The mechanism of the metalwork immediately began to whir, tick, and move. The stones and gems began a slow journey around in a circular motion, moving in opposite directions.

External light was extinguished. Light from the tree and the resulting reflected light off the gold and silver of the jugendstil sculpture lit a small area that seemed to exist floating in space. Three other standing figures faded into view, each, along with Ben, standing around the white bay, filling in the four quadrants. Ben looked to his right and could see in his peripheral vision that each of the others did the same. He saw himself, with a bit more gray around the temples, but seemingly fit and healthy. From the profile view he had, he could see an expression between sadness and desperation. The corner of the eye he could see was red and tearing.

He turned his head to the left and saw an even older version of himself. This time, much thinner and care worn. He seemed to be breathing hard, but his expression was one of fear and worry. He seemed, nonetheless, determined to hold steadfast to his task.

He then faced across the circle and saw an even older self. The very thin, wan, harshly aged Ben seemed to smile reassuringly across the way, but his clothes were a wreck, torn and bloody. His face and hands were scarred. The four each turned to the left and walked clockwise around the tree, touching each stone with a hand and chanting the name of each stone and gem. When they had completed his cycle, he faced the Ben opposite his position. Each of the four Bens raised his wand to his temple and pulled a tendril of glowing mist, then handed the wand to his left with his left hand and reached to accept a wand with his right hand.

With that, the two middle Bens turned away with a mirrored, symmetrical motion from the tree and metalwork. Fire burst from their wands, in what appeared to be an attack upon some foes that remained unseen to the youngest Ben. The eldest Ben stepped forward and passed through the mechanism and tree, right up to the youngest Ben.

At that moment, the scene transformed back into the lawn on the Bowling Green. It was dark with the full moon shone down. The tree stood, freshly planted in the moonlight, no longer emitting its own light. The mechanism whirred and ticked as the spheres and gems turned slowly around the tree. Now he would just have to manage to survive long enough to see this fool's hope through to fruition. In the mean-time he had to find ways to foil the ever more creative and ambitious plans laid by the enemy.

Ben turned, stepped out of the protected area, and disapparated.


	8. Chapter 7: One Little Bird

**Chapter 7 One Little Bird**

Phainopepla… Phainopepla… Phainopepla… He just loved to hear mommy say the word. "My little phainopepla."

"Do it again." He said.

She raised her hands over his head and the world changed. His perspective changed. She was above him, then he leaped and he was above her, flitting through the boughs, soaring, swooping, and diving, then curving upward and around, back to the oak branch. British birders would have been amazed to see the medium-sized black bird with a ragged crown. Most striking are the iridescent bluish-greenish-purplish black feathers, the red eyes and white wing patches that flash during flight. This is a new-world species from the American southwest and Mexico. Mommy lived in Mexico after school, working with muggle ornithologists. The phainopepla was her favorite. The silky flycatcher

Daddy was an American ornithologist and loved the fact that mommy could do all sorts of amazing things. They met while they were working in Copper Canyon in Chihuahua. Daddy drew the birds and Mommy could turn people into birds.

When Ben tried to explain how wonderful his mommy was to his American cousins, though, his parents laughed and talked with his aunts and uncles about how wonderful, little Ben's imagination was. They would attribute it to the things he learned hanging around college classrooms, where Daddy worked, that were so interesting and let his creativity go go go.

When he was with his cousins on Mommy's side, there would be no commotion about how magical things just sort of happened out in the open and in plain sight. People came and went with a bang and then there was that way the dinner would "appear" on the table in a flourish, as if it had gotten itself ready. This was a very questionable circumstance when it came to a four-year-old. There were clearly ethical issues about eating food that was apparently somewhat animated. Nobody else at the table, however, seemed to be bothered by it. Ben tried to explain how when he was at his other cousins' house, food was food. He lived in two alternate realities that were apparently, just plain unaware, or intentionally unaware of one another.

What he hated about those visits to Mommy's family was the way his relatives would talk about Ben right in front of him as if he weren't there. They would use words like "squib" or "muggle" in ways that didn't sound very nice. Ben knew they were talking about him. When he tried to explain how wonderful his Daddy was because of his wonderful drawings and the books he wrote, his aunts and uncles looked at him with pity in their eyes. The wan smiles betrayed their sadness that Mommy had moved so far away from them. Ben didn't think Cambridge was so very far away. After all, they had to travel all the way across the Atlantic to see Daddy's family.

His English aunts and uncles would always tell his cousins to be careful with poor little Ben and his siblings because they were such fragile only-little-half-wizards. When they were left alone, the cousins would not play with them, or they would always make Ben be the sickly patient that would eventually only be able to be a school janitor. This would then lead to yelling, kicking, screaming and finally parents rushing into the room to tell them they were having tantrums for naught.

When his cousins got mad and started calling him a squib, Ben was confused. He was getting old enough to understand the magic going on around him, but… they couldn't do anything magical either. There was no tangible difference between them in any way that mattered. And even the fact that daddy was a muggle shouldn't matter. His American family was perfectly happy. His mother's family had assumed that since his father was not a wizard, then Ben would not be. At one point when the kids were all left alone and had tied Ben to a chair because he wanted to be professor of potions in their game, things started to get really mean and unpleasant. They forced him to drink the concoction that he had created, and he vomited all over his cousin Graham. A doctor had to be called to make sure Ben wasn't going to die of poisoning. There was nothing inedible in the potion. Ben knew it. They made him swallow a bezoar anyways.

Little Graham had broken the gravy pot during dinner the next night. He made it fly across the room and smash against the wall. Instead of getting in trouble, though, he was fawned over. It was like he was the greatest thing to exist ever since the invention of the Cornish pasty. The adults even cleaned up the mess for him. He was so proud.

Graham thought that he should now, as a real wizard, be in charge of everything. While the band of kids was preparing for a mock battle, with Ben being assigned as the eventual loser of the battle, things again got a bit out of hand. Two kids ended up with concussions and Ben got the wind knocked out of him. But what was even worse, was that when they came at him to finish the trouncing, his eyes suddenly flashed blue.

As the kids came into focus for him, he began to utter a horrible scream and told Graham how he would be caught for stealing the locket from the old woman that lived next door, another one of them, Lizbeth, would be paralyzed before sunset, and grandma and the dog would die tomorrow. Nobody would play with him after that. They told on him and he was sent to his bed without dinner for scaring the other children.

The next day, Graham was being punished for stealing a locket from the elderly neighbor lady. The locket was gold, and covered with jewels. It had the pictures of her dead husband and one of her children that passed away at a young age. The old lady had asked Graham's mother to help her find it, thinking it only misplaced. When she had used a spell of location, she found it hidden in Graham's sock drawer.

Lizbeth was being attended by the doctor to see if the misfire of a spell could be reversed. It had been intended to stop the dog from attacking the neighbor lady's cat while her mother was over trying to help the old lady find her locket. The dog made it through the fence when the gate was briefly opened. Lizbeth spotted the dog making its escape. When she saw the dog leap onto the cat that was not used to the dog being able to get past the fence, she jumped into action. She ran over and ended up in the becoming involved in quite a scuffle while trying to rescue the cat. She was bitten, scratched, and bleeding and, because of a spell that went wrong that had been aimed at the fighting animals while she had been interceding… paralyzed.

The next morning, everyone was frantic, because the dog died during the night from the lingering effects of the misfired spell. Uncle Bilius, who had been the one to cast the spell, was miserable. He sat silent in the dining room by himself. He was shaking, looked quite ill, and was pale as a ghost. For a while, it looked like her condition was pretty similar to the condition of the dog just prior to its demise. To everyone's great relief, Lizbeth was eventually cured and was pronounced all right. Later that evening, Grandma died.

Nobody congratulated or fawned over Ben for showing such promise. In fact, Uncle Bilius, even after his own embarrassing screw-up, commented on how disappointing to have a sister in law with such a powerful and fantastic talent of transfiguration could end up having a "freak seer." Ben was never very fond of Uncle Billy.

"To heck with him…" Ben muttered in his sleep.

The next moment, Ben found himself transported to a scene many years later with his father, in the nursing home where his dad had been living during the last few years of his life. His mother had recently passed away. Dad's mind was going. He couldn't read any more and did his best to cope. His problem had been developing over the last few previous years, but he had covered his decline, and Ben had seen him too frequently to notice any great change. His sisters had spotted it first because they lived farther away and didn't get to see him as frequently. Ben finally relented and had to admit that his parents had to be moved into a place where they could be comfortable and cared for.

Ben tried to get his father to the house frequently to see the grandkids and get some stimulation, but he never felt it was enough. They were all lucky just to have gotten his parents out of the house in which they had been living… the one in which Ben grew up. The family had finally managed to get the two parents into a place that would take good care of them. Dad would have never gone if Mom's health wouldn't have been so poor. Once they moved, though, it was clear that they were no longer capable of living independently. Their deterioration, however, both mental and physical, continued steadily after the move. Even knowing and seeing this continued decline, it was still difficult to finally move them out of what had always been "home." There was still some guilt of having to be the one to end their freedom.

His father spent his time paging through some of his ornithological books, looking at the pictures, and tending the birdfeeder outside his bedroom window. He could remember things that happened seventy years previously, but had trouble remembering things beyond a conversation a few minutes ago.

Although his father was alone now in his small apartment since his mother had died just a couple of months before, his spirits were up… especially since he didn't have the stress of keeping a house and taking care of everything. Meals were served to him, so he didn't have to eat his own not-quite-so competent cooking. What was more was that he wasn't totally alone since he lived alongside dozens of other elderly people that ate together and met frequently for activities. He just couldn't remember any of their names or faces. That would have made it easier to make some friends to make life more interesting. Now he just had to live with a bit of boredom and a few odd bills to pay. At least Ben didn't have to travel far now to check on things… and his father was in safe hands.

Dad always tended to bring up the fact that he felt responsible for Mom getting into the condition she ended up with before she passed away. He thought or felt he could have done something. Ben always tried to assure him that there was nothing that could have been done for the strokes. Dad always insisted that he, himself was at fault, and should have done something and gotten her to hospital sooner after her first fall when she bumped her head.

Although it was painful for all of them, they had to realize that she was ready to go in the end. She was miserable in the state to which she had declined. Ben pondered that with all the fantastic abilities in the magical world, the human body still ran down, and at some point passed away. He couldn't see or do anything that would heal his mom.

This time, months after her death, Dad was sitting in his couch in his small living area next to his bed and Ben had come to take him out for some shopping and stimulation. Dad waved him over and said "I wanted to ask you some things about what happened."

"About what?" Ben asked as he moved over and sat on the edge of the bed.

His father sat back and put his hand on his forehead. The other still holding a pile of mail that he had to give to Ben. "About your mother and how she died… and when she died." His father answered.

Ben sat and looked curiously at his father. "OK, I'll try to do my best." He replied.

"I wanted to know if you could tell me… When was it that mother died the first time?"

Ben stared at his father for several second, trying to understand the question. He looked around the room at the jewelry boxes and brushes and mirrors on the dresser that still sat there, long after the person that used them had left them behind. He looked back at his father. "Do you mean my mother or your mother?" Ben asked with a quizzical expression. "What do you mean… first time?"

"I think I mean your mother… my wife. I want to know when she died. Didn't your sister come to visit or something? When was that? When did that happen?"

"Dad, that was two months ago at the beginning of January. She died right here in this room, on this bed."

"What did she die of? They never told me." He asked. Still looking confused and at a loss for any answers. The frustration was palpable.

Ben had an answer for that, that came straight from the death certificate. This was not the first time that he had to answer the question. "Pneumonia resulting from complications of the strokes she had been having." Ben replied, concerned that he had to answer this question for the umpteenth time.

"Ardea had been in London on business and arrived the next day and spent several weeks with us before returning home to Boston." He finished.

"Could you tell me something?" His dad went on. "How many times has your mother died?"

This conversation was starting to get more odd and disturbing. "What do you mean, how many times has she died? People only die once." Ben responded. "She died two months ago and that was the only time." He looked at his father with concern, and tried to respond with a not-insensitive tone. "I hope we don't have to go through it again. We already thought she was going to leave us back in September. Somehow she rallied and we got another birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year before she passed in January."

His father pondered this for a few seconds. Then he started to explain, "The other day after lunch, a day or two after I saw you last, I came back to my room. Standing here, just inside the door, was a crowd of people including doctors and nurses and other staff. They were standing around your mother. She was lying on a gurney. They were counting down the seconds until she died. I stood there and watched. After she died, the doctor handed me a small bag that had her rings and a jewel, and they took her away."

Ben sat there trying to understand what had just been said for a few seconds, taking in this new story. "Dad, I'm not sure what that was. It must have either been a dream… or could you have walked into the wrong room? Are you remembering what happened two months ago?" He was hoping for some explanation that he could wrap his mind around.

"No. It was this room, and all those people were around. It could have been a dream, but it seemed real as I remember it, just the day before yesterday." He insisted.

They spent a few minutes searching for the bag with the rings and jewel. They only found the bag that had his mother's wedding rings and watch that was returned to them when she had passed away two months ago. No jewel and no other bag.

Ben went down the hallway to the nurse's station and asked to speak to one of the nurses. He explained the story, out of earshot of his father… although he wouldn't have been able to hear anyways. The nurse explained that it must have been a dream since she was not aware of anyone else passing away last week. Ben explained he was most worried that he had accidentally gotten someone else's belongings, but she reassured him that it was only a dream. "Bless his heart." She ended their conversation. He went back to the bedroom to find his father still rummaging. Ben stopped him and explained that it must have been a dream.

As his dad sat back down, he looked up and started to talk. "You know, she was the most extraordinary person. Not only was she an amazing ornithologist… she was also a superbly competent and creative witch. She could call the birds into the trees around us so I could see them more closely. I didn't have to shoot and stuff them to draw them. What's more, she could turn people into birds with just a wave of her hand. Apparently that's quite a talent, even in the wizarding world. Not that I would know, except that's what her sister told me. They were so proud of her. I was too. She was also a very astute ornithologist. One of the top in our field. It is a shame that the people in our field would not respect a woman. She should have been made a member of the Royal Society and given the accolades she deserved. She was as good as if not much better than any other worker in the field. What most people didn't know…" He got a far off gaze in his eyes. "was that she could also turn herself into a bird."

Ben looked up, surprised. "She could? She was an animagus? What kind of bird…" The question was never finished or answered in real life because of a sudden interruption by the nursing staff and Ben being called away back to his job at the Ministry.

Ben began to realize that this conversation could not have been taking place. It was, however his father's birthday, April 29, 1930, but his father was dead. The question did not get answered in the dream, because at that moment, Ben woke up from his dream. His eyes were glowing blue and it took him a few moments to realize he was in the middle of receiving a premonition. He had had a busy evening the night before and had foiled a plot. At least he thought he had. How could it be happening again so soon? Alcor, the leader of this attack, should still be standing in Hyde Park, waiting for the aurors, he thought. He must have missed something. Perhaps there was more to the plot and Alcor was just a small actor that could be replaced.

As he rested there in bed, several alternative events came to him and he sat there motionless, absorbing the gravity of the situation. He had to make some decisions, and quick. This was going to be tricky and very demanding. There was a possibility that he and some others would end their journey. Alas, he had committed to the fight and would have to do what he could to stave off a critical event that could cascade into other events that would lead to more instability and a collapse of the current order.

Half an hour later, he was in the middle of Victoria Station, busy with thousands of commuters trying to make their way through to their early morning trains and buses. Some of his adversaries were already there, not suspecting that someone was aware of and watching them. Ben raised his arms and began a chant. He probed with his feelings and extraordinary senses to the greatest extent of his abilities. As he began to draw the outmost fringes of his world inward toward him, very deliberately, slowly. He faded from view to all onlookers.


	9. Chapter 8: Two Little Birds

**Chapter 8: Two Little Birds**

Hours later, the evening rush was on. Fenice Eschman had spent the entire day at the scene of a crime. Having graduated from Hogwarts just this last year, her new position as a magical crime investigator for the Ministry had seemed to be the job of her dreams.

What she found out, as a novice Detective-Wizard-In-Training, or DWIT, was that it turned out to be a very boring drudgery of cleaning up the messes made by careless wizards. Hopefully after a while, she would graduate to more interesting tasks, which was what she was hoping for today. This assignment was quite a bit different from previous tasks. The problem here seems to be the lack of clues about just what happened.

This time it was a willow tree in a place where there had previously not been one. It was in the middle of Hyde Park, on the northwestern end, not far from Kensington Gardens. The surrounding ground was littered with heaps of garbage and angular, broken rock fragments that looked like they could have possibly been a stone building that had also not been there and should not be there. The garbage appeared to be whatever may have been its contents. orange and blue slime covered almost everything.

This particular willow tree was odd because it was quite angry and animated. The boughs swung around and hit pedestrians as they approached, unawares. Two muggle tourists already had to be taken to hospital.

The tree had now been sedated and Fenice and three other ministry officers stood around, wands pointed at the tree along with Fenice. "After three now… One, Two, Three…" one of the officers counted.

"Reverso!" All four of them said together. The willow began to transform. The outstretched branches began to shrink and draw inwards towards the trunk. Leaves began to be drawn into branches and within a minute, it appeared to be transforming into a person. The face was just barely recognizable. Before the shape of the face could materialize into a clear visage, however, the four struggling wizards had to release the spell and let the willow retake its shape.

"It looked like Alcor Mawbray." Said Sweeney Humphries, the chief of the group who had been standing back a few paces while the four tried to reverse the spell. He had luckily been standing on the appropriate side of the tree and in a position from which the apparition of the face of the transforming tree had been visible. "I don't know how we're going to reverse this spell. It's a pretty tricky one and I've never seen it. We may have to send it in to the Research Office. It must have been a whole crowd of wizards that ganged up on Alcor. At least now we know where he is. He's been wanted for months. Nasty bugger." The chief paused as he considered what to do.

"We'll have to figure out how to reverse this spell and take him in. If we can't manage that here, on the spot… we'll have to take in this whole plot of ground and then reverse the spell. I don't want to risk leaving him here and losing him. Whichever option is fine with me… but we can't leave him here." Chief Humphries finished.

"What do you think Fenice?" Fenice liked working for Chief Humphries. He gave her jobs for beginners, but he still seemed to respect her opinion.

"Sounds good, as long as you don't leave me guarding him for the rest of my career." She smirked. They both laughed at that one, but in that uncomfortable, forced laugh that follows an ironic joke with the boss that could very likely become a reality.

"Hey, we're trying to get you out on interesting jobs. We brought you out here, didn't we? You've got a lot of talent. And so do the other new auror trainees… you have to understand, though, that you have to start out where everyone else did." Humphries explained. They both backed away as a new group of aurors showed up to take over the job. Humphries updated the new team on the status of the site and gave some direction to the next in command.

As they stepped away from the scene, the new group began to mark a perimeter around the willow and the original three, aside from Fenice and Humphries began to check out other trees and objects in the surrounding area in case there might be other surprises.

As they turned to consider the tree and its setting, to try to figure out what events had transpired to result in this outcome, a commotion began at the south end of the park, beyond the end of the Serpentine lake. Fenice and Humphries could just make out a scuffle.

As they strained to see what was going on, they were surprised to hear a series of bloodcurdling screams and whinnies. They looked at one another with expressions that indicated that the tone was quite disconcerting. Some of the shapes they could see were larger and four footed, perhaps horses. Then, a flash of light and an explosive expansion of dust preceded the thundering, rumbling explosion that rolled over them just moments later. Lightning flashed outward to the line of buildings along the southern edges of the park. The lightning strikes exploded onto dozens of places along the surrounding buildings. The loud, echoing bangs and rumbles of thunder were heard for several seconds, even after the lightning flashes stopped. The light became brighter at the center of the ruckus, then suddenly dimmed. In the fading light, they could see through the trees and monuments that there were a number of silhouettes of people standing around that had just recently been randomly wandering tourists.

As the smoke and dust rose above and expanded outward from the distant scene, they could see numerous figures fleeing the area, apparently trying to escape the scene of destruction and encroaching darkness. Quite unexpectedly, a small herd of thestrals abruptly emerged, loudly stampeding from the wall of dust and galloped out of the growing, billowing cloud with a thunderous rumble. As the herd approached them, they suddenly realized they were directly in its path and had to leap out of the way. The stampede rushed by, then leaped into the air and flew off. One of the thestrals was bleeding and had a knife sticking out of the side of its neck.

Humphries looked around and said, "On top of everything else, I would hope it couldn't get any more bizarre and confusingly ominous than what we already had… but a herd of thestrals with one stabbed in the side? That can't be good. Who else saw the thestrals?"

Fenice and a couple of the others raised her hands. She spoke up and said "I did. I've got some experience with winged magical creatures."

"Magic involving putting a knife in a thestral is always bad. Something foul is afoot. This will definitely get ugly. Tersus," He said to one of the aurors standing around, guarding the tree. "you're in charge here. You stay and make sure this gets cleaned up and make sure the relief team knows how dangerous this guy is." He turned to the other two and gave instructions with a hurried, somewhat urgent voice. "Sequeris, as soon as that other team gets here, gather up your people and follow us. Relevo, get back to the ministry and let them know something is afoot and get as many teams activated and pointed in our direction as possible. We're going to need as much backup as we can get." As he started to walk away, he turned toward Fenice. "Eschman, you're with me." The two of them looked at their watches, grabbed small bags full of supplies and then they ran towards the trouble and disappeared into the cloud.

When they arrived at the scene of the explosion, there was a hole in the ground thirty feet across and ten feet deep. A hooded figure stood at the edge, with his back to the hole, gazing towards the buildings to the south. As the hooded figure turned towards them, they could only see a nose. The person was barely visible in the shadow of the hood and as he or she looked up, recognizing who was approaching, the mysterious figure disapparated.

The two walked up to the edge of the hole and from what they could see in the limited visibility, determined that there was nothing left of the crime scene except for the empty space of the hole and the settling dust. There were a few shouts to the south of their location.

Humphries pointed toward the noise, towards Knightsbridge Underground Station where some pedestrians had been flattened by some awkwardly stumbling, fleeing figures. As she watched for several seconds, Fenice could see more grey figures falling off of the building facades and hitting the ground. The human-like figures could barely be seen through the hase and it was not clear what they were. They were clearly not regular people, because as soon as they hit the ground, they sprang up and dashed down the street in a simian gallop.

Each of the mysterious figures trotted along the street until it came to a side street. As they came to the corner, they turned, then ran south, disappearing down the street and away from Humphries and Fenice. The silhouettes of the closest individuals could barely be seen disappearing down Serpentine Walk. As Humphreys and Fenice started in that direction, several other figures dropped down from the facades of the buildings lining the side streets. The impacts sounded like cracking and shattering stones as the silhouettes hit the pavement. The new shadowy creatures ambled off after the first, in a Quasimodo-like trot. The two ran after the creatures.

After sprinting down Serpentine Walk, the two came out on Knightsbridge Road and they kept running across the busy street. They just barely missed being struck by cars shooting down the street, but they had to skirt around two demolished vehicles that had apparently run full speed into some immobile, solid object that was no longer present. The drivers looked stunned as they stared down Sloane street.

Taking this as a clue as to which way their quarry had run, Humphries and Fenice ran in that direction and got to the next corner just in time to see some of the shadowy shapes disappear around even another corner. They skirted through a district of expensive apartments, shops, and embassies. Humphries aimed some curses at some of the figures as they emerged around another corner and could be seen running into a park. The figures were apparently indeed their quarry. They realized that because one of them turned, ripped up a spiked fence, and threw it. It came spinning at them and would have caused considerable damage, had Fenice not stopped it in mid-air with her speedy reflexes and a quick spell. The two continued their pursuit and ran right into Belgrave Square Garden. The somewhat random attempt to hurl a curse at unknown adversaries turned out to be a mistake, because when they caught up to whatever they were chasing, it had definitely been struck by that curse. The problem is that the result of Humphries attempt to slow them down was that it had split up into a swarm of Cornish pixies that proceeded to viciously attack the two of them.

As they were struggling with the Cornish pixies, Fenice stumbled over what, at first, appeared to be a corpse with long whitish-blonde hair. She reeled back, expecting to have stepped all over smelly, rotting guts, but as she stumbled, it flipped over and its eyes fluttered open. The corpse moaned as it gazed up at Fenice and at the pixies circling around her head and attacking her.

The area surrounding the individual smelled like there was a corpse nearby, but this one was clearly moving. Whatever the issues with this individual may have been, however, he was clearly a confused and disoriented individual. Fenice would still think that her initial impression of it being a corpse was not far off and it just might be one soon, although it was clearly not quite dead yet. It was also clearly a man although he was very wasted, weak and filthy. She was surprised not only to have tripped over a corpse that turned out to not be dead while trying to fight off Cornish pixies, but that she recognized the not quite so dead corpse. "Chief, that looks like Archon Malfoy. He's been missing for… for years." She said as she zapped a couple more pixies and stumbled away from the corpse.

"Well, would you look at that." He replied, a bit bemused, also zapping pixies. "We'll have to leave him for later. I think that whatever is going on is a bit more pressing than this one missing wizard. Although he may be able to help us answer a few questions I've been itching to ask him. Alas, we've got to run. We'll see you later Archon… if that's who you are." The wasted man waved them off, swearing at them.

They pressed on through the onslaught of pixies. They would never make it back to check on the potential missing person, but it wouldn't have mattered anyways. Archon managed to stumble up and ramble on, trying to find Magical Tom and his missing… something.

After several more moments spent taking care of the pixies, they were off again in the direction of Victoria Station where they had last seen the ambling, ape-like figures galloping away. As they left the park, they passed, but did not notice a piece of paper pasted to a lamp post. It was a missing person sign, pleading for any information about the whereabouts of the man they had just stumbled over.

At this point, they had lost sight of the creatures they were chasing, but a clear trail of wrecked cars, floating shoppers, and chipped stone marked their path. They rushed down Belgrave Street and past Easton Square, following a trail of oddities. Several buildings and sidewalks seemed to have deep gouges from claw marks. Numerous pedestrians were knocked down, unconscious. Some were bleeding with passersby trying to help.

"This is already going to be a complicated and tricky cleanup." Said Humphries. "I hope we can track these guys down so's that it doesn't get any worse." Humphries knew almost immediately that it was likely his turn and his day to utter what were probably unavoidable proverbial famous last words... "I hope it doesn't get any worse."

Ahead, they could see a crowd of people overflowing onto the streets. At first, it wasn't clear from which direction they were emerging, and Fenice thought at first they were coming out of Victoria Station. As they got closer, they could see that people were walking towards Victoria Station. Once they reached the sidewalk, they were being herded into the destroyed entryway of the train station.

The people were being forced inward by the monstrous shapes they had been chasing, as well as about five masked wizards that were directing the monsters they'd been chasing. The monstrous shapes were now clearly visible as a myriad of different grotesque stone monsters, big and small. Fenice realized they were the gargoyles from all the nearby buildings. The monsters had somehow been animated and leaped from the building facades upon which they had sat guarding and watching the people as they walked by day after day. They were now being employed in herding, abusing, and beating the masses of muggles captives. For what purpose, Fenice could only begin to speculate.

Fenice and Humphries ducked behind the corner of a building. Humphries, feeling a bit unsure of himself started going through his options. "What are we going to do? We can't go charging in with no idea of what is happening. We need reinforcements. I wish I would have brought the whole team." He lamented while trying to peek around the corner.

At that moment, a muggle post man walked up to them from the opposite direction from which they had come. He stepped up to the two, looked them up and down with a bit of an amazed expression. He took a deep breath and took three seconds, considering his next words with a quizzical look on his face. As he exhaled, he made an announcement with a voice that betrayed that he could hardly believe himself. He could hardly believe that there were people at the place where the letter he had just randomly pulled from his bag indicated, and that they were standing at the precise spot. "I have a letter for a Sweeney Humphries. Would you happen to be that gentleman?" He said, while doffing his cap.

"Why… yes indeed. I am Humphries." Humphries replied with a bit of a dumbfounded expression on his face as well.

The post man handed Humphries a letter and hurried onwards towards Belgrave Street, looking over his shoulder just prior to beginning to notice the beginning of the trail of destruction the recipients of the letter had just been following. The letter was addressed in very formal handwriting to Sweeney Humphries, Chief Auror of the Ministry of Magic, Peeking around the edge of a building on the northeastern corner at the intersection of Phipp's Mews and Eccleston Place, near Victoria Station. It was sealed with a stamped, wax seal with the flourish of initials BAT, intertwined with an upward-branching dendritic pattern and a star above. Humphries broke the seal and ripped open the envelope. Inside was a letter, hand written on one page. There was a dashed line down the middle of the page.

My Dear Sweens and Fenice,

I have urgent need of your assistance. I am in the center of the concourse in Victoria Station. Please take this letter and rip it in half along the dotted line. Each of you should take one half of the sheet of paper and hold it in your hand. This way, the bad guys will not recognize you as you join the people they are herding into the station. Please hurry.

Professor Ben Adarwayne, Concourse, Victoria Station.


	10. Chapter 9: Three Little Birds

**Chapter 9 Three Little Birds**

Humphries looked up after reading the letter and handed the letter to Fenice. She read the letter, ripped it in half and handed him one of the halves.

He looked at her with a bit of a surprised expression. "You don't intend to just go walking in there. We need a lot more force than this. We need backup. This requires some thought and planning." He said matter-of-factly.

Fenice replied while trying to peek around the corner, facing away from him. "Professor Adarwayne was one of my favorite professors. He treated us and spoke with us with the patience and care that shows that he respected our opinions and was there to help us no matter who we were or through whatever demands were put upon us. The one problem was that he never gave extra credit. He always said 'You wouldn't need extra credit if you would have focused on the credit.'" She mocked, in a rather poor imitation as she turned back to face Humphries.

"Stragely," she continued, "There was an odd moment when he told me that someday, he would need my help. It would be at a time," she thought for a second and her eyes came into focus as she met Humphreys' gaze. "just like this, and he told me something about myself that nobody else knows. I didn't even know it at the time. If he needs my help, I've got to go to him. I have an obligation. I trust him. Let's go!"

As Fenice started to walk determinedly into the jaws of unknown danger, Humphries commented uselessly after her… "But he just does divination… what can Adarwayne do against all this… these people, these things… how can you be sure… Eschman, come back here?" Somewhat hesitantly, Humphries was forced to follow her onto the walkway, and he felt a little out of place and out of control. It was almost as if he was a captive inside his own body as he watched himself move towards the small crowd of people being herded into Victoria Station.

They could now see that the ape-like beasts were of myriad forms. They were gargoyles that had 'leaped' off of the buildings in the surrounding neighborhoods. Several masked wizards rode thestrals that they barely held under their control. They rode up and down the street as numerous other wizards on foot formed a barrier along with the gargoyles, guiding the people in through the entryway.

Revolving doors and entranceway retail booths were smashed and hurled aside. The muggles were screaming and crying. Some were trying to defend themselves and each other, but resistance was met with swift force from the masked wizards. At one point, a gargoyle was allowed to punish one of the muggles that was struggling hysterically. The body was left lying in the middle of the entranceway as an example.

"Poor souls. I hope you're right in trusting Adarwayne. I'm not feeling so confident that a professor of divination will be of much use here. If we weren't this deep in, I might be having second thoughts. What am I saying… I am having second thoughts. We should be backing out!" he whispered. "At least there aren't nearly as many people here as I would have expected for an afternoon during rush-hour… In fact, there are only a tiny fraction of what I would normally expect. Thank goodness." Humphries finished, finally realizing that, at this point, there was no retreat.

As they made their way through the entrance, they were packed into a small crowd that was being forced to shuffle down the hall. They emerged as a pack and were forced to merge into single file around and into a large circular line around a circular area in the middle of the concourse.

Some invisible force was holding muggles, gargoyles, and wizards back. There was a large, circular, empty area in the region that made up most of the space for viewing the huge train schedule board. It occurred to Humphreys that this impenetrable space was something that was not to the liking of their captors. Their plans were moving forward, but this part of the scenery wasn't entirely expected.

Humphries and Fenice could see two of the masked wizards attempting to penetrate the circular area and could hear them commenting about the unexpected barrier. "What in the name of the Hallows could have caused this field to have developed? I don't see any clues as to its origin. We need to get into the middle of the concourse and begin the process." The first said determinedly.

His partner responded, reminding him that there were more issues than this with which they were having to deal. "This is on top of the other big problem. There are far fewer muggles than we would have hoped to have been here. More should be arriving on new trains, but there don't seem to be any new trains arriving." As he spoke to the other masked wizards, it became clear that he also seemed to be frustrated because he was saddled with being in charge of fixing these problems.

Another wizard approached and spoke up with some new information. "We seem to have encountered several charms and spells that have been guiding and steering muggles away from this spot." She said. "We've disabled the ones that we were able to, but it will take some time for the trains and traffic to replenish those that have been diverted."

A wizard that appeared to be in charge of the whole operation approached and seemed to be confessing her concerns. The admission would not be typical since in maintaining control of their minions, the leaders rarely admit that anything is out of their control. "This is odd." She began. "We were very careful. Where is Alcor? He was supposed to be here and I had to send Jewel out to finish the job he was supposed to have completed. The rest of the gargoyles are finally just arriving. Have them circle up thus trapping the muggles on the inside. We'll crush them against this barrier. If this is being created by a wizard somewhere in here, We'll make plenty of examples for him and he'll see us killing muggle after muggle. Keep the other gargoyles herding in the new arrivals. We're going to complete this task!"

For the good of the new arrivals, the leader explained the plan once more. "Listen up those of you who haven't been brought up to speed. We'll need everyone on the same page once the process begins to drive forward. We are going to create an army by converting these pathetic muggles into mindless tools. Our efforts will be akin to spreading a mind-consuming disease that will leave vast numbers of the populace vulnerable by first believing, then promoting our propaganda. Their bodies will be damaged, but preserved enough for us to control their actions with simple orders. As their bodies begin to spoil and they can no longer maintain the day-to-day activities and semblance that is adequately similar to and passing for normal muggles, they will begin to spread havoc throughout all the land. They will position themselves for coordinated attacks. At that point, the disease will continue to spread, but physically, and begin converting the whole population. It will start here, then spread through the rest of the country in an unstoppable wave, since the people they infect add to our mass. We will deliver an army of the dead to Grindelwald."

He glanced up at Humphries and Fenice as they were herded by, along with the rest of the muggles. A spark of recognition began to form on his face, but faded into distraction as Humphries held his half of the sheet of paper higher.

The leader continued after shaking the glazed-eyed look that had suddenly overcome him. "Bring the dead one over and we'll begin the process by binding him to a gargoyle and bringing his body back as an undead slave. The anger and lack of compassion of the gargoyles will provide the impetus for the explosive fury of our army. They have had to sit and watch these undeserving muggles wander freely while they gaze down year after year, imprisoned on their perches. Now they will be the shepherds of death, herding them to do our bidding."

At that moment, the gathered masked wizards gazing at the center of the concourse began to notice that the space wasn't entirely empty. One of them shoute. "Look! There is someone or something in there." A fast-moving entity, streaking around too fast to resolve became apparent. The movement was confined to the area near the center of the circle of muggles. The entity was speeding around in spirals and shooting like a ricocheting bullet. What was apparent was that the super-fast motion was resulting in an intricate pattern of curving lines, forming a brightly glowing hemisphere. Lines were being added in an unbroken tracery at a speed too quick to follow.

Another wizard that had been on a thestral outside on the street came running up. "Sir, all the thestrals bucked and unmounted us and flew off. There are no more muggles approaching the station. As the thestrals flew off, they slowed as they hit and passed through an encroaching, dark barrier. That barrier has now collapsed inward and we haven't been able to make it through. We're trapped! We've probed it and it seems to be approaching from all sides of the station and collapsing inward in an ever shrinking sphere. It also seems to be coalescing and becoming more tangible as it shrinks towards us. We seem to be trapped in here along with the muggles and gargoyles."

At this, the leader spoke up, but was resigned to get the job done. She pondered for another moment while looking around at the circle of muggles that had formed around the impenetrable barrier. "Get each of the gargoyles with a muggle and maybe we'll force a move that will make our adversary show himself. We'll get this chain reaction of death moving, then we'll escape down the tunnels if we have to." The conversation was interrupted by one of her underlings who pointed out the apparent slowing of the motion of the blurred entity in the empty area.

As they all gazed inwards toward the center, a figure began to be be resolvable out of the blur. It began to slow and coagulate into a single person.

Still moving a bit too fast, the individual inside the innermost sphere approached the side of the tracery facing Fenice and Humphries. They had been forced to become part of the circle of muggles around the barrier and were standing several dozen feet from the wizards who had been speaking. Close enough to hear the plan. The muggles that were present, several hundred strong, formed a continuous circle around the invisible barrier and the gargoyles stood behind them, forcing them to the edge of the barrier. Some gargoyles began grabbing the muggles and forcibly crushing and pounding their bodies into the barrier.

The figure's motion finally slowed enough for everyone to make out that it was Ben Adarwayne. He motioned to Fenice and Humphries to walk forward and join him. As they each held up their halves of the letter, they stumbled forward and penetrated the sphere. As they recovered, they rushed in towards Ben.

The masked wizards noticed the penetration and immediately attempted to rush into the circle, but were hurled back as the shield remained firm and Ben raised his hand.

Ben motioned for Fenice and Humphries to enter the tracery and silently guided them to stand with their backs to each other. At this point, Ben was moving at normal speed. Both Humphries and Fenice tried to speak, but no words came out. Ben handed each of them a note to read that contained an explanation of his machinations and instructions.

Ben smiled reassuringly at them, then as they read their notes, he walked to just outside of the tracery. With a motion, a staff appeared in his hand. He raised the staff and waving his wand in his other hand in a one-two-three motion, he screamed. "Un, deux, trois. Chassé!" As he screamed the final word, he struck the floor with his staff. The muggles danced forward and away from the unprepared gargoyles and wizards in a series of graceful steps. They passed through the invisible and heretofore impenetrable barrier with expert placement of their feet and pointed toes. Ben shouted… "Et Grand Jeté!", The muggles leaped forward and landed as he struck the ground with the staff a second time finishing their escape from their captors in a singular, fluid, coordinated motion.

The gargoyles and masked wizards rushed forward, crashing again into the invisible barrier that was, once more, impenetrable. At that moment, a darkness and silence surrounded them all as the outermost, collapsing barrier that had been outside, beyond their sight, now became visible. It had phased through the building, not appearing to harm the edifice, and continued to collapse inward. It swept all of the masked wizards before it, towards the circle of gargoyles that were left behind at the invisible barrier after their captives escaped.

Ben walked back into the glowing tracery where Fenice and Humphries had stood reading their notes. The masked wizards could see through their heightening panic that the three figures inside the tracery appeared to move with increasing speed. The struggling masked wizards watched as their motion accelerated into a blur and time seemed to affect them differently.

From Ben, Humphries, and Fenice's perspectives, everything outside the intricate tracery seemed to slow down, to almost a standstill, but not quite.

As Humphries and Fenice looked up, they knew what they had to do. They could now also see that the outermost sphere collapsed into a shell on the outside of the wizards and gargoyles and the invisible impenetrable barrier on the inside. The noncompressibility of the gargoyles seemed to hold the space between the two spheres apart as the now, frantic wizards struggled to maintain their lives in the space between. The muggles standing within the momentarily protected area watched in horror as the whole series of shells, gargoyles, and masked wizards began to collapse toward them.

Fenice's note said: "Dear Fenice, Thank you for coming and so willingly putting the lives of these innocent people before your own. Your talent can save all of these people as the world implodes inward upon us. Please use your special ability to transform these people. Humphries will then summon them to us and I will teach them to fly."

Fenice looked up as Ben approached. The ultra-slow motion of the panicking muggles and imploding spheres was horrifying as some of the gargoyles began to explode into sharp, hard, fragmented debris. The space between the two spheres would suddenly adjust with a jerk as the largest gargoyles were gradually destroyed and the wizards writhed and screamed in horror, realizing their eventual fate.

Ben ignored the terrible mortal realizations spreading around him and smiled reassuringly at Fenice. He waved his hand, indicating the direction of a muggle to start the transformation.

Fenice straightened her stance, aimed her wand and the nearest muggle became a falcon. As she turned toward the next muggle, Humphries, with a nod from Ben, aimed his wand and the falcon was summoned to his hands. He handed the falcon to Ben who spent a moment sharing his memory of flying with the bird and threw it into the air. The bird flew through a glowing, circular doorway that momentarily appeared at the top of the collapsing hemispheres and then disappeared through a hole in the roof.

One by one, the muggles were transformed. Hundreds of them. The accelerated rate of time and the pace of transformation within the tracery was kept so that there was just a bit more space within the collapsing spheres than could hold all of the people. The transformations were happening so fast that the muggles could not tell what was going on. They only saw their compatriots disappearing one by one.

Fenice, Humphries, and Ben worked steadily, mechanically in fast-motion at the center of it all. The birds shot out of the top of the station like rockets, then slowed to normal speed as they soared away from the rooftops around Victoria Station. One by one, each bird flew toward its original destination and, unnoticed to any of the other muggles nearby, transformed back to human shape as he or she lit upon the ground as if in the midst of a promenade, and continued to walk along to their homes. Mercifully, none of them seemed to remember the trauma of the horrific events of the previous minutes prior to their flight. They would not remember the flight either, but they would have dreams of flying as they slept that night.

Back at Victoria Station, the last few muggles were being transformed and sent on their way. Now Humphries turned toward Fenice and Ben. Fenice aimed her wand at Humphries as he held up his hand to protest… and he turned into a crested caracara. Ben reached forward and hefted the large bird up, and through the portal.

At that moment, the middle hemisphere that had been holding the dark wizards and gargoyles back from their prey shattered. The survivors of the crush all tumbled inward. The ones still capable and with their wits about them, started to get up and rush towards the glowing tracery on the innermost hemisphere.

The collapsing sphere continued to sweep inward. In the moment before all was swept together, Ben and Fenice turned toward one another. The outermost hemisphere accelerated, collapsed and imploded inward while Ben grasped Fenice's wand hand with his ring hand, pulling the two of them together. "Now Fenice, It's up to you. I trust you." Ben said.

Fenice looked at him briefly, and thinking back to their conversations back at school, knew what she had to do. In that moment, part of the glowing tracery collapsed in upon them as their perspective of the world began rising and transforming around them. The lines of the tracery had split into two patterned spheres. The inner portion of it collapsed into Ben and Fenice, wrapping around the two wizards at the center of the sphere, branding their forms with the fine lines of the intricate tracery. The outer shell of tracery exploded outward to meet the rushing foes and imploding sphere. A furnace-like blast exploded out of the center, incinerating everything within the collapsing space.


	11. Chapter 10 Crickleberry Pub

**Chapter 10 Crickleberry Pub**

Dumbledore had followed a curious trail, walking the entire path of chaos from Hyde park. He arrived in front of the ruined north entrance of Victoria Station. The air was un-naturally quiet for six o'clock in the evening on a Friday. There should have been thousands of people filing in and out, on their way to and from work or shopping or dressed for an evening on the town. A dusty, smoky haze obscured the view into the station. A greenish cloud of smoke snaked its way from the innards of the building, flowed along the ceiling, then drifted upwards as it seeped out of the entryway. The lazy, greenish smog gradually dissipated as it blew away to the east, over the buildings and became part of the normal pollution.

Wizards were busily repairing the entryway. The crumpled edges and debris took on the appearance of a clue that something had recently been forced through the entrance, knocking down the ceiling and crumbling the walls on either side, while squashing everything else in the way. The rubble was strewn with trash that appeared to be the discarded armloads of shopping and belongings of commuters. Just inside the entrance was a large bloodstain. The trail of blood leading into the station was evidence that the body that made the bloodstain had been dragged from that spot. It was a brutal scene.

"Where's Humphries? I thought we were supposed to meet him here." Bill Spry, one of the other aurors said as he turned to Dumbledore. "We've got teams spread all the way back up to Hyde Park, cleaning up the mess and looking for clues as to what happened. We have reports of monsters, vicious fairies, flying horses, explosions, and a black wall smashing into the station. Just slightly out of the ordinary." Bill finished with a bit of an ironic smirk.

Then he turned his gaze back towards Victoria station and said with a more serious tone. "We have no idea what happened inside here. We're the first ones to arrive and we've sent in a house elf to check on the safety."

At that, the house elf appeared with a 'POP' hovering with his nose an inch from Bill's nose. "Everything looks clear, Gov." Bill jumped half a foot in the air and yelled "Don't Do That!" at the house elf.

The house elf continued. "All the evil wizards and the gargoyles have been destroyed. Some of the house elves that live here told me that Magical Tom saved all the people with some help from two aurors that arrived in the nick of time. One of the aurors flew off, but the other one with the fire and Magical Tom are still inside. I was told to tell you that if Tom survives, he needs to know that they know that he worked in time with time making more time and that if he's not dead yet and he's not careful, someday, he will pay a heavy price for the time he's taken."

The two wizards looked at one another, clearly not understanding the meaning of the rambling elf. "None of this is making any sense. Can you explain what you're talking about?" Dumbledore asked the house elf.

"I was very clear. If you don't understand, then that's your problem." The house elf disapparated.

The two wizards looked at one another, and Bill gave a shrug. They gave a shout and gathered up their forces to begin the walk into the main concourse of the station. Dumbledore made his way through the trail of broken, charred stone, glass, and metalwork and piles of debris. There was a pile of cooling, molten rubble and ash in the center of the concourse. Most of the debris was unrecognizable.

"What in the world happened here?" Dumbledore said as he stepped forward, kicking through some of the rocks and ashes around the margins of the pile. As he walked around the perimeter of debris, a large, brown and white eagle-like bird with an orange beak flew in through the entryway, landed next to Dumbledore, and transformed into Sweeney Humphries.

He looked around and took in the remains of the concourse as Dumbledore said, "Well that's pretty surprising… and somewhat remarkable. Are you registered as an animagus? Since when are you transforming into a bird?"

Humphries cocked his head in a quizzical, bird-like fashion and replied, "Where are Fenice and Ben? Didn't they get out? What happened to all the masked wizards and the gargoyles?" He was looking down at the pile of rubble and ashes, registering what was left of everyone he'd left behind in the concourse after he'd flown. He was starting to get a worried tone to his voice and his face had turned two shades paler. "Oh sheesh, if they didn't get out, I'm not going to be able to forgive myself…"

"Sweeney, what are you talking about? What do you mean. Could you please explain what happened here! I'm at a total loss. Why are we standing in a burnt, rubble strewn, empty Victoria Station?" Said Dumbledore.

As Humphries caught his breath and began to explain about the tree in Hyde Park, "Well, there was this odd, animated willow over in Hyde Park…" he was stopped by a shout from an auror that had been kicking around in the ashes.

"Oy! Gents! Come take a look at this. I think I may have found something." He called over to Humphries and Dumbledore.

They went over and saw the wasted, burnt, half de-feathered body of a large bird. The feathers laying around its body were blackened by fire, but had apparently been red. Humphries bent to lift the body, but burned his hands on the bird's corpse. As Dumbledore used his foot to turn the bird over, Humphries shouted. "Hey be careful with..."

Humphries was cut off because his clothing had erupted in flame. Dumbledore looked down and saw beneath the red bird was a small, apparently dead, black bird. As he looked down at the small bird, he noticed it had red eyes. What's more, the red eye was looking back at him. The little black bird with the ragged crest hopped up and flew off, out of the ruined entryway. As Dumbledore stared off at the bird flying away, he mumbled with a bit of surrender in his voice, "At some point, I can only assume that explanations will start showing up, instead of more questions."

One of the aurors walked over as the large bird started to move "Oh for goodness' sake!" and said, "Hey you guys, that big one isn't dead. At least, not yet."

The larger bird struggled to lift its head and gaze up at the people standing around it, then, with all its strength used up, its head fell back down, limply. Sequeris began to speak and point at the bird with a surprised shout, "Hey, that's a…"

"A Phoenix!" Dumbledore shouted "Everybody get back." As the bird burst into a pillar of flame, the pillar consumed the bird and surrounding rocks and shot upward, burning a new hole into the ceiling. The heat forced every person to step backwards several tens of feet. As they struggled to watch, they all did their best to protect their eyes and faces from the heat. The center of the pillar coalesced into a human form, and out of the flame and rubble stepped Fenice. She had a fierce and determined look on her face. As she waved her wand, she became clothed in a fiery red dress and stepped toward the crowd with a menacing glare.

"This was no feint or isolated prank. If we hadn't stopped this, we'd be neck deep in a problem that would have sent our whole society into chaos. I assure you that would be a lot tougher problem to solve." A bit of smoke was still emanating from her clothing and hair, and the floor crackled with each step she took as she strode forward. "We need to track the root of this down, then have a long discussion about what just happened here. If it wouldn't have been for Ben, we would be in a much deeper mess. People are dead because of this and what they… we… I… did…" She looked around as the reality of what had happened began to sink in. "and I need to know why."

Dumbledore and the other aurors just stared in bewilderment. Dumbledore held his hands up in helpless futility and a complete surrender to the absurd irony of one-thing-after-another happening with absolutely no warning or explanation… "Is everyone here some sort of animagus?"

East of town, after crossing the Prime Meridian, a small black phainopepla swooped down from the sky in front of a particular business establishment. Ben Adarwayne lit on the sidewalk. He looked around and walked into the Crickleberry Pub. "Tom! Whaddleyahave?" a voice called out.


	12. Chapter 11: Failure

**Chapter 11 Failure**

January, 1932. Several years later, Ben rested in the morning light just beginning to penetrate the long curtains. Strange dreams yet again had ushered him out of his slumber and left him pondering the coming day.

The dream resulting from Ben's fading sleep that still mingled with his thoughts had focused on the events for the coming day that he had been anticipating for the previous four years. He was envisioning himself turning the mechanism's key four times, going through the motions that he had practiced in order to remain consistent with his three other selves. He then imagined himself summoning dragonfire. Numerous possible opponents faded in and out of his dream as he blasted fire from inside his protected space. He pondered the messages he was planning to send to his younger self, while being careful to not create any paradoxes.

Ben's dream then wandered to the previous four years, which had been hectic but manageable. Several disasters were narrowly averted and he remained an anonymous, unknown source of critical information. He even had the opportunity to participate in several late-night acts, to interpose and divert the efforts of their adversaries. Then a sudden awareness overcame his feeling of eager anticipation and everything collapsed and shattered. The next moment, Ben woke up and screamed "NO!"

Ben leaped from his bed, ran to the dressing stand, and stared into the mirror. Glowing blue eyes stared back at him as he tore himself from his dream and struggled to wake himself. The entire dressing table shook and his white knuckles clenched the edges of the red-mottled stone. The morning light speared through the darkness from the curtains, lighting drifting dust motes and resulting in two bright spots on the shadowed celtic knot-work carpet. He turned and stared at those two spots, shining brightly in the dark room at opposite ends of the complex design. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to be able to maintain control… manage the possibilities. How could he manage to be in two places at once. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe Albus could get there.

Ben rushed out the door and into the hallway. It took him several minutes to make his way to the wing where Dumbledore's office and residence resided. Ben regretted not having made preparations for something like this. It was hard enough to disapparate from Hogwarts, but to go from one point to another within Hogwarts was more complicated. Even then, the regret and the realization was falling into a feeling of failure and despair. He knew the choice he had had to make will have doomed some, but for the greater good of many thousands of others. The irony of that motto twisted in his side as he pounded on Dumbledore's door.

Ben felt helplessness and fear as he knew innocent lives were being lost and more would be snuffed out as time was wasted. He would be the only one that could get to the right spot in time. But he had to be somewhere else… or else all was for naught. It may have been tears seeping from the corners of his eyes or it may have been a panicked cold sweat that streamed down his face, but he was covered with dampness, and it was all he could do to not get sick on the floor as Dumbledore opened the door.

"Albus, please, you've got to go. It's already too late, but I need to be elsewhere. Maybe you can save them. Maybe a few…"

"Ben, what is the matter? What is it? You're a mess. You look like a ghost." The blue began to pulsate in Ben's eyes and Dubledore pulled him into his chamber.

"It's an M2 Monitor submarine just off Portland. They're being attacked with magic. One of the sailors was one of my best friends when I was a child. He has a family. They all have families." Ben shuddered and sobbed.

He looked at Dumbledore and said in a defeated voice, "Maybe you could get there in time." He collapsed onto his knees on the floor. "I may have doomed them with my choice. I could have gotten there. It's already too late. It's already too late." He repeated several times.

Dumbledore tried to console him. "You can't think that you could save everyone all by yourself, Ben. We'll get there if we can."

Ben gasped and looked up with a wild look in his wide eyes. "Maybe I can change things." He sat, pondering as a look of hope penetrated his desperation. As Dumbledore reached toward him to try to calm and reassure him, Ben disapparated.

Dumbledore stared at the place Ben had been and breathed. "I wish I knew how he did that." Then he turned and waved his wand as an apparition appeared before him.

Dumbledore spoke to the apparition. "We have to get a team with as many as we can to the coast near Portland. Now!" He ran down the hall and disappeared in a shooting ball of smoke that sped southward.

Moments later, Ben apparated on the lawn in Pembroke. He stepped into a space apart from the rest of the world. "I know what I can do." He thought out loud.

Now he remembered back to the silvery tendril of thoughts that were passed to him by his older self. He had gone through them over and over. They were mostly a lecture about not creating paradoxes by attempting to alter the time line.

There would be some "apparent" paradoxes created, but they are accommodated within the new interdimensionality created within the spell-casting. The rest of the communication had to do with making sure to bring his uncle's ring, even though he now wore it without the stone, and leave it around his wand.

There were instructions of how to handle two small events that helped to save aurors' lives… Also, instructions about how to concentrate his efforts in the defense of the mechanism and white tree in the event of the enemy suspecting his efforts. He listened to his own advice about how he had to prepare by committing his will to the strongest dragonfire spell to confront enemies that would arrive when the spell expires and dissipates. They would be apparitions to the current Ben. He didn't understand how fire from his present… but their past could help. Aren't these last few things paradoxes? Why didn't he tell himself about the submarine?

The strange thing is, he didn't learn anything outside of the spellcasting and the message from his future self that would spur him to create the message that was given to him during that initiation of the ritual. His current message would have been about the same, but that was mainly because that was the message that had been sent to him. Mostly notes derived from the previous message and adequate hints about the same incidents, but not a record of what had happened during the last four years. He pondered these thoughts as he prepared to step forward into the spell. Nothing happened to indicate that any of these small paradoxes caused damage to the process.

In his panicked desperation, he decided right then, his message would include a warning to make preparations to avert this current crisis. Whatever happens, even if he has to start over, it will be worth it. He noticed that the tree had grown several feet during the last four years. He stepped up to the mechanism. He turned the key of the mechanism four times, then he stepped into the location to the right of the original position in which he had stood four years previously.

The surrounding world disappeared and the bay laurel sprang backwards, shrinking back to its original size when it had been planted.

He raised his wand and tapped the topmost leaf on the tree as it exploded into glittering, silvery radiance, and his other selves faded into view. He turned his head toward the person to his right. He saw his younger self turning to face to his right. He's currently not the worse for wear compared to that younger self. He looked to his left and saw his slightly older self, still out of breath and sweating. He looked like he could use a bit more sleep. Then he looked across and saw his oldest self who smiled firmly and reassuringly, although his appearance left him feeling somewhat less than confident about his actual state of body, mind, and soul. He was so thin and haggard.

All four turned to their left and walked around the circle in a clockwise direction, placing hands on the cairngorm stones as they passed, reciting their names and the names of the gemstones. When they returned to their places, each raised his wand to his temple and pulled a tendril of glowing mist, then handed the wand to his left with his left hand and reached to accept a wand with his right.

Wait! This was wrong. As he took the wand from his other self, he realized the order was different. His warning would not reach the younger Ben. He looked across at his oldest self who was looking back at him with an expression of warning in his eyes. Ben yelled across the circle. "We have to tell him!"

His older self held his gaze across the circle and mouthed the word "No."

The older Ben's voice couldn't be heard because either the rushing sound was too loud or his voice would not carry across the time. As they spoke, he noticed the small tree was visibly growing between them, partially blocking the view across.

Ben looked back at him and said "You knew."

He could see his oldest self mouth the word "Yes."

"You gave me my message."

The oldest repeated mouthing "Yes."

"You fed me just enough to lure me here on a false hope."

The oldest repeated "Yes."

"You are despicable."

"No!" His oldest self said something else with a sad but reassuring look. That something else he thought may have ended with the words "the greater good."

Ben knew that his older self would be right, however, he tried to turn toward his younger self, but could not.

The oldest Ben raised his arm and commanded voicelessly. "GO!"

Ben and his slightly older middle-aged counterpart turned, stepped to the edge of the space and commanded fire and pain upon the crowd of shadowy robed figures that suddenly appeared beyond the veil. They were not of his time, but somehow his effort transcended that dimension. He kept up the effort for as long as his strength could manage. He could see through the veil that his effort had tremendous effect. The people he could see were blurry, but they were pushed backwards and some of them had to have been maimed, wounded, or incinerated. Ben wondered who they were and hoped his effort was adequate.

Then he fell from exhaustion at the base of the tree and the spell had broken. He stood up, barely aware of his effort and stumbled out of his protected space.

He fell on the green in front of a small group of nicely dressed students that walked over and gathered around him to ask if he needed help. "Where did he come from?" One of them asked. "Sir, are you all right? You are apparently in a very interesting set of pajamas. Are you sleep walking?"

Ben stood up in the dark moonlight and said "Yes, thank you. I've just had a bit of a shock. Sleepwalking it is." Ben waved his wand and the students walked away while he walked in the other direction, toward the edge of campus, choking back tears because he knew Dumbledore and his crew could not have made it in time.


	13. Chapter 12: Past Present Future

**Chapter 12 Past, Present, Future**

Over the next several weeks, Ben attended the funerals of sixty men. The only consolation was that the aurors arrived in time to capture one of the several wizards responsible. The young witch had attended Hogwarts and had seemed a fine person while at school. Dumbledore had thought he had known her better than the other five people gathered in the room.

Ben, Humphreys, and Dumbledore as well as Cuthbert Binns, Galatea Merrythought, and Eliza Jewell all sat around a small circular table. A penseive rested in the middle.

"What happened to turn her down the path of helping to murder those poor men." Dumbledore continued on as part of an ongoing conversation. "Ben, could you see anything that would give a clue as to why these particular wizards attacked this particular group

"With all due respect Albus," said Binns. "divination is an extraordinarily inexact science and any answer might lead to an infinite number of interpretations and more questions."

"That is very true Cuthbert." chimed in Ben. "One might say the same thing about the field of history." The people around the table noticed Ben was looking a bit thinner as of late.

"The problem is, my dear friend," said Binns, "we have evidence on our side. It's not like you predicted this, or any other attack."

That stung. But Ben held his composure. Although they were close friends, Binns did not know the extent of Ben's involvement. To an outsider Binns' jab would have sounded harsh. "Cuthbert, you are absolutely correct. I have nothing but the highest regard for your field." The tinge of sarcasm brought Binns out of his focus on the problem and he realized he had gone too far.

"My apologies Ben. I didn't mean to bring you or your expertise down. I value our conversations and feel that we have retrieved some most valuable information, as well as very effective tools with your guidance."

"No offense taken Cuthbert." Dumbledore is the only one who had any suspicion that his abilities were any more extensive than a slight amount of the "gift" and the theatrics he employed.

Binns did continue to gaze in Ben's direction and after thinking for a few moments, queried his old friend. "I suppose I am trying to imagine a point at which we might act on an event predicted by a vision. Would there be a point at which you would implement some sort of preventative measure? I mean, at what point would we act to prevent an event based on the mists?" He continued to gaze at Ben with a bit of a worried expression on his face.

"I could only imagine that we would act only if… and I mean that… only if and when the act of violence can be shown to be in process and unavoidable. And of course, only at the necessity of protecting the innocent." Ben answered. "But I would do so without hesitation if it saved innocent lives."

"But, I imagine," Binns focused on Ben and leaned toward him. "there would be points at which, prevention would be a simple matter… that is, if you acted early enough, prior to the crime. It would be tempting to be more proactive and interpose. Interpose your will."

"I assure you Cuthbert, that innocents are protected and I do my research prior to any reaction or intercession."

"So, I can see you are admitting that you have done so. This is quite worrisome. Funny to call such preventative acts a 'reaction' when they happen before a crime that doesn't exist. Tell us, how far have you gone in your efforts?" Binns asked.

"Yes, I have acted on my visions, but not without verification, and I have saved lives. Some emergencies require elaborate intervention. Others just require a little shove." Several in the room reacted with surprise. Dumbledore simply observed with a serious expression. Merrythought nodded approvingly.

"You can't…" Binns was cut off, but continued to gaze at Ben with a worried expression.

"Our most pressing problem right now," interjected Merrythought, "is to convince the rest of the wizarding world that the issue is not simply Grindelwald and a few dark wizards, but a movement that has befuddled a large proportion of the wizarding community. Even though there is only a minority of wizards that hold these prejudices deeply in their hearts, the general populace is, for the most part, not likely to stand up and act on what they consider speculation. There is a large enough proportion, one might say, a minority within that minority, that is willing to say and do what was just a few short years ago, unthinkable. In standing by and watching, the rest are in effect, lending their approval without having to publicly approve. They are allowing their more vocal brethren to do the talking for them. They are allowing themselves to be purposefully blind to the extent to which the worst among them will act. These acts and pronunciations have become… well… normal."

"Thank you Galatea," said Ben. "You are correct in your assessment that there is a problem. Don't forget that these feelings have always been part of our community. Grindelwald is an earthquake that has happened and we are just beginning to feel the effects of the tsunami hitting our shores. Things will get worse before they get better."

"Didn't need to be a seer to predict that." Said Jewell. "Let's get down to finishing this business. I can't be away from my post at the ministry for too long. Albus, whatever your source of information is, we need a better way to gather our resources and organize. Lives could have been saved. If it hadn't been for that fluke accident with Arawn Moss and the clumsiness of his brother, Bledig, we'd have another mass killing on our hands. At the same time, we need to do a better job of reminding people that our current relationship with muggles is far better than the chaos and pain that existed when wizards tried to dominate, and muggles killed out of fear and revenge. The mutualistic relationship we now have is very beneficial to both worlds. We need to convince people that we can continue to improve it rather than destroy it because some parts aren't optimal."

"Hear! Hear!" announced Binns. "We have so many examples of when the alternative didn't work. Times when wizards either acted as parasites or dominated muggles. They failed every time. The current group of miscreants finds many followers by holding up one example of supposed injustice based on unsubstantiated or cherry picked information. What they don't explain is that for every one of these flimsy examples of someone abusing the system that they trumpet from the highest tower, there are hundreds of thousands, or even millions that benefit and thrive from the relationship. Our adversaries are just very good at ignoring facts and agreeing with one another. What we need is a method to sniff out and fix these small problems. And do it honestly and out in the open. The solution, should by no means result in destroying the whole system because of things that could be fixed. It's a baby and the bath water discussion."

As Binns began to speak on and continue onto several other topics, Ben's mind began to wander back to some of the events of the previous several days. He couldn't help but feel a slight bit of anxiety and a pang of guilt. How justified were his colleagues in not trusting what seemed so obvious to him.

On the other hand… he had to wrestle with the possibility that he was wrong. When could it possibly be justified to act upon visions of the future? Where would it leave him if he failed to act? Thus far, he had been able to wait until the actions of the individuals made it clear that the path they chose would lead to some act that would justify an intervention. At those times, he had been acting in a preventative manner, but just in the nick of time. Would there be a point at which he would become more proactive and prescriptive. Would that mean he had reached the end of his sanity?

As he thought back to his actions of the past several years… he focused most clearly on recent events with the Moss brothers. He could still see them running, running, running. They had been fleeing from aurors for two days. They were about to erupt on the world in their most sadistic act that they had spent months planning. They had left a trail of bodies behind them and the authorities were beginning to get desperate. It got to the point that the Minister of Magic had to contact the Prime minister to mitigate the fallout from the barbaric acts. They had to negotiate terms for how the muggle witnesses could be obliviated with the lightest touch and assure the Prime Minister that no harm would result. The acts the Moss brothers had committed were very public and broadly witnessed.

They had finally been flushed out of hiding and were recklessly charging through crowds of muggles, gleefully harming and terrorizing as many as they could. A team of aurors led by Fenice caught up to them. The aurors were successful in preventing disapparation, and the brothers were forced to flee on foot. They would have been successful in getting away, except that Bledig tripped over a filthy, tramp that had been sitting in a crowded entryway to a train station. Bledig recovered and tried to find his wand, but it had apparently disappeared along with the tramp that had tripped him. Unfortunately for him, Fenice came upon him as he scrambled and stumbled around, searching for his wand. As she approached, she raised her wand and he immediately transformed into a kiwi. A cage subsequently appeared around the exotic bird.

Down on the platform, Arawn attempted to blend in with the crowd and stood patiently awaiting the train. He had managed to wipe the sweat from his brow and shift his attire to resemble that of a muggle as he made his way forward to the edge of the platform. He could see out of the corner of his eye that some aurors were making their way down the steps. They began to walk through the crowd as the train approached the station. At that moment, he felt a tap on his shoulder and an elderly beggar asked him for some change for a cuppa. As he turned to try to act like he was searching for coins, the beggar reached out, lightning fast, and plucked the wand from his hand. Then, the very flexible and strong beggar had his foot up and in Arawn's chest and Arawn was shoved into the path of the approaching train. As he fell, he could see his wand in the hand of the beggar. The surprise on his face as he recognized Ben… just as Ben disapparated… was very short lived.

"Thank you Cuthbert," interjected Dumbledore, "If all of our people had your understanding of history, we would not be in this predicament."

"Eliza, you have our wholehearted support." He continued "So it is decided. Let's just make certain of one thing. As far as anyone outside this room is concerned, there is no 'source of information' as you put it. As long as we can continue the work we have in progress, we have… well… I can't really say… an advantage? Perhaps I could say we have a ray of hope. Sweeney and I will work out a better method of warning between our two ends, and you, Eliza, will manage a system of rotating crews to be continuously at the ready, with backups. Cuthbert, Galatea, and Ben will work as a team to understand all the angles, past, present, and future of the dark wizardry that confronts us. We will meet weekly to discuss our progress and issues that arise. Thank you for coming."

As Dumbledore pronounced their individual responsibilities, Ben pondered the significance of the roles of the three professors, past, present, and future. How effective could they be in the absence of a willingness to act? Justice is tricky. Past, present, future… it's getting as complicated as a government. If only he could just retire to his chambers and teach classes. Or perhaps it would be better to live on the streets.

As Ben pondered his very existence and wrestled with his internal demons, the wizards stood up and made their way out of the room. At that point, several conversations started up and continued into the hall. Ben remained in his chair. "Albus, I'm not sure I can pull this off."

"Ben, thus far you have proven yourself to me. I trust you, but wish you would do the same for me. I'm just worried you are carrying too much of this burden upon yourself. We can trust the people that were in this room. Think about it. Their guidance will make your efforts more effective and reinforce your capability without sacrificing your anonymity. You yourself said you need to hide out in the open, but if it becomes more obvious that you are hiding your work from your friends, it may result in distrust within our own ranks. I appreciate your honesty with Cuthbert, but you can see he has deservedly honest concerns. We need your help at the front, and not just hiding in your tower. Plus, you need to get better at interacting with other people. It will help you move on from this recent incident in Portland. I'm very sorry." Dumbledore didn't know about his involvement with the Moss brothers. Albus stood behind his friend and put his hand on his shoulder. "If it's too much, just let me know. Let's see how this new cooperation with the Ministry teams works. At some point I'm going to need to know what it is that you have going on. You led me to believe that something that you are doing will be of great impact and import. I can't go on forever just reacting to one emergency after another and blindly trusting you. Don't forget our conversation those almost six years ago. We spoke of trust, but you have to show that you trust me too."

"At this point, it's not only about trust, Albus. I don't want to expose you to more than you need to be." Ben stood and left the room. As he walked away, he began to realize that if he continued on with the measures he already had in place, Binns' concerns could eventually prove out to be true. Perhaps the insanity of his actions would result in the fact that he would not be able to exist in either world.


	14. Chapter 13: Menacing Merrythought

**Chapter 13 Menacing Merrythought**

"I've asked you both here because some critical information has come to us about an attack that has precipitated on our own shores. Our teams are overstretched and I'm calling you in because I have no other option upon which I may rely." Dumbledore leaned forward on his desk as Binns and Merrythought sat listening.

"Our informant has delivered a plan to strike early yesterday evening at the tin mines at Carn Brae." Dumbledore stood and pointed to a map that suddenly appeared on the table. "Some very important and influential dark wizards will be convening there and their goal is to defeat our garrison that is stationed within the tin mines. That goal has already been accomplished in this stealthy attack that has continued into today. Apparently they plan to use the area as a base to reinforce and expand into a new front, defeating the region, and establishing a base of operations. This could be the beginning of a full-out invasion. It's enough that the continent is already succumbed to the dominion of the enemy, but it's the last thing we need to have a bridgehead on our side of the channel."

Dumbledore let that sink in for a few moments and both started in with numerous questions that he cut off. "Now before you ask any questions… time is of the essence. Here is a plan and description of what you are getting into."

Both draftees took maps and papers from Dumbledore and quickly read the description and orientated themselves on the maps. "This is extraordinary detail of what is expected of us. How did you come by this?" Demanded Merrythought.

"Our mole is very well positioned and he is in grave danger." Responded Dumbledore, evading the question somewhat tenuously and clumsily, in such a way that Merrythought raised an eyebrow.

"Albus, what is it you are not telling us. I'm not sure we can survive on scraps and such sudden emergencies. If it didn't appear to be so dire at this very moment, I would sit here and grill you until I get some answers. As for now, that might mean lives being lost. I am convinced for now, based on information from our previous operations supplied by your mystery source, that it is imperative that we act. For now, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and will accept that if they have any more opportunity to secure their position, there will be dire consequences. I'm going to make myself clear Albus, we need answers. For now, though, time is of the essence and we had better get moving." Merrythought finished, but left a note of unease and anger with a bit of a glare at Dumbledore.

"Yes indeed! I am with Galatea… on both points." agreed Binns.

"Soon, I promise Galatea and Cuthbert, Soon. Let me just say this to assuage your worries. Thus far, our source has been spot on correct nearly every time. I trust him."

"Nearly? Him?" Merrythought retorted. "At that rate, we'll be able to narrow down our suspicions from half down to a quarter of the wizarding world in no time. Secrecy breeds mistrust, Albus. You need to start trusting us."

Dumbledore gave a perplexed nod and tried to smile reassuringly as he moved to the side of the room and move the subject on to more immediate issues. "To hasten your arrival, I've arranged for you both to be able to disapparate directly from my office, in the area over to the left of you, Galatea. I will be overseeing and coordinating a second simultaneous attack along with Humphries. Your implementation team from the Ministry will arrive shortly to help coordinate and execute the plan"

With that, Merrythought and Binns stepped into the circle in the corner of Dumbledore's office and disapparated.

When they arrived on the hilltop at Carn Brae, things looked bad. They were surrounded by dark wizards stationed around the hillside. They fortunately knew where their adversaries were located because of the incredible detail on their map. They had to clear the wizards on the surface before the daunting task of laying siege to the mine tunnels. As they watched, unnoticed at first, numerous more adversaries were apparating and bolstering the numbers of the enemy forces. Binns began by focusing his concentration, drew his wand and started firing a heavy barrage on the concealed wizards. The balls of fire fell harmlessly on the shielded pill boxes. Not only was it a wasted effort, it alerted the invaders to their presence and the response was immediate.

The enemy was at the ready. From all sides, wizards and witches began apparating and running toward their location, wands out. The sheer force of the firepower that rained down on them surprised them both. Their quickly erected shields barely fended off some well directed spells.

"Oh Cuthbert, step back and let me handle this." Merrythought raised her wand, shut her eyes and as she began to whisper, all went dark.

Two hours later, Binns fell into a chair in Dumbledore's office. "She Was Magnificent! I have no idea where she came up with those… I guess you would call them tactics. Galatea The Merciless might be my new name for you." Binns slumped in the chair while writhing in exhausted astonishment. "It was like a ballet mixed with a brutal, but unfair fight. Fortunately, it was unfair for the other side. They were helpless." He tried his best, but unsuccessfully, to use his extremities in an overstated but pathetic reenactment of something he just saw, but perhaps did not totally understand. "Amazed! I am absolutely amazed!" Smoke still rose from his half burnt-off hair and from several smoldering spots on his ripped jacket and pants. He wore only half a jacket. Smudges of soot and mud covered his face and hands and was smeared all over his clothing.

Dumbledore calmly walked behind him and smothered a small fire that had erupted on his chair, while Merrythought sat nearby listening and smiling politely. She seemed as fresh as she had been at their earlier meeting.

"One minute we were hopelessly encircled…" Binns went on, seeming either slightly unhinged or overly enthusiastic to tell the story… at least, that is… compared to Merrythought's reaction. She rolled her eyes as Binns continued. "The next moment, the world turned upside-down and bodies and rocks, plants and small animals were being hurled in all directions. In that first onslaught, many of our attackers ended up entirely helpless and bound unconscious on the ground. Plants, rocks, idle mechanical equipment… it all came alive and attacked our attackers. It was absolutely frightening." He paused for a moment, going over the events in his head and looked up, still astonished, at Merrythought. "Where did that come from, Galatea?"

"I only regret that you caught some of the effects of my work, Cuthbert… and of course the small squirrels, several hedgehogs, and two moles. I made sure they were OK after we were done… poor things. Those were the only moles we rescued, Albus. This leads to more of our question about…" She added.

"Then," continued Binns, as he cut off Merrythought. "Things left the realm of sanity. Wherever you came up with those spells, Galatea, I need to find your sources and begin a new course in Defense of the Dark Arts. Talk about creativity and thinking out of the box. You had them hook, line, and sinker. I don't know how they fell for the cookies. It's like they totally forgot themselves and turned into helpless children. They were mesmerized."

"What can I say… They see an old lady with cookies and expect a helpless little thing. I use whatever failings and misconceptions are available. Believe it or not, I'm not as naïve as I am judged to be." She looked from Binns to Dumbledore and said "Even you two could use a little bit of a reality check."

They both sat back in their chairs and averted their gazes a little bit. Then Binns continued, "The whole area descended into a maelstrom of nightmares for those senselessly befuddled wizards. I caught a glimpse of some of your mechanations, Galatea. Quite Respectable! This is why muggles burned witches at the stake. It's as if there were a dozen of you, each addressing a different target. What's more… at some point, the cookies transformed into bat-like creatures that terrorized any of the poor fools left standing. The bat-like things then flew into the caverns and cleared out the entrances."

"Swooping evil. Just a little something Newt lent me." Merrythought interjected.

"As I watched from my perch… er… really from beneath the pile of detritus I ended up tangled in, Galatea started appearing and reappearing at locations and intervals exactly midway between our adversaries. They would shoot curses at her and she would subsequently disappear, resulting in the curse striking his or her own ally. Again, it was like a ballet. All the while, I could see that she was manipulating their curses to work against them and undermine their own efforts"

"You always try to get the enemy to spend their strength on each other and themselves." Merrythought added. "I prefer to let them do the work for me."

"I swear you really were in several places at once. Incredible! There was a beauty in the timing and sheer simplicity of your dissection of their defenses.

Binns continued, "She then ran down the hill and leaped into the mine entrance. After a short while… maybe thirty minutes or an hour as I tried to free myself from my entanglement, the ground shook. Several minutes later, dozens of dark wizards came rushing out begging to be rescued from her. When she emerged, they all did exactly as she said."

As Binns described the scene, Merrythought pondered back to her moments within the mines and caverns. None of the witches or wizards she encountered were a match for her. She was on a completely different level. These opponents were ankle biters. Few wizards achieve her level of proficiency, and none of those spend their time revealing their superior hold of magic, except for those that attempt to dominate others. In fact, the more one knows, the more it becomes evident that those of little knowledge and power greatly overestimate their abilities. Most imagine that the distribution of abilities and strength within the wizarding world is a line that follows a steady slope. It does not. The abilities of a few of the highest achievers make the curve into a geometric curve that rises exponentially for those very few. Merrythought was on the hunt for the wizards that would give her a real challenge.

As Merrythought crept into a large chamber that was well lit, she took a bit of a pause. This was clearly the quickly-erected base that would be the center for operations of the invasion, she spent several moments and considered her surroundings. There was a row of bound, unconscious wizards along one wall. These would be the Ministry personnel. In the center of the room, around a hastily cleared-off table were six or so masked wizards that were clearly the recent attackers, but had been disarmed and rendered unconscious by the swooping evil. They lay motionless on the floor of the mine. She moved quickly to gather the magical creatures she had released and put a more effective binding and petrification spell on the six wizards.

The moment she finished securing the situation, a large contingent of masked wizards barreled into the chamber and as they saw her, they spread out to surround her and coordinate an attack. Merrythought looked at each one with a sweeping gaze and realized that none of these would be her quarry. She waved her hand and they all remained frozen, staring at her. They could no longer move and they were forced to be silent witnesses to her continued investigation of the chamber. Disappointedly, she recognized several of their faces.

She probed the area with spells, searching for the wizards who would give her a real fight, but they were not there. The odd thing was that this 'invasion' did not appear to be a day or even an hour old. It had just happened and was happening as they arrived outside. The information Dumbledore had supplied, she realized, was not as he had stated. It was, in fact, prescient. Not from a mole, and not even a hour, much less a day old. This was just the first wave or the vanguard… and not very well organized.

Merrythought directed her efforts into determining which of her captives was the highest ranking, then proceeded to interrogate her. It turned out that this attack was an impromptu change of plans provided by an opportunity that was observed by several spies only during the last couple of hours. The large group of dark wizards had gathered for an altogether different purpose, but saw that the opportunity presented by taking and securing the southwestern peninsula was too good to pass up. There was no way anyone could have known to send a defensive team.

As Merrythought considered the implications, she left the interrogatee frozen as she resumed her search for evidence verifying their intent. She wanted to try to verify that it was indeed a sudden change of plans. As she stood in the center of the room, her senses pricked up and she braced herself.

Two new wizards apparated in the space between the table and the rear wall, and these she knew well. Lynx Ferroan and Europa Bovidae. Two of Grindelwald's main underlings, and very infamous and potent wizards. These were formidable opponents. Merrythought recognized the possibility she could be in a bit of a pinch and in for some trouble. From the initial look on their faces, they thought everything was in order, seeing their allies standing around the room. As Merrythought stood still, in order to not attract their attention, she reached slowly into her robes and carefully extracted a large, bipyramidal crystal of cassiterite.

As the two newcomers surveyed their new surroundings and looked around the room, they eventually noticed the bound wizards at their feet and began to realize that there was something amiss. There was something particularly odd about the lack of greeting from the standing wizards that should have been demonstrating a certain level of respect toward the new arrivals. Lynx's eyes finally met Merrythought's gaze. Her friendly smile and warm greeting left him momentarily off balance and unprepared for what happened next.

"Welcome to Cornwall! Glad you could make it, Lynx. Here, take a look at this." Merrythought said with a smile and kind, reassuring words as she tossed him the crystal.

As he reached out and caught the small thing being tossed to him, he began to register who was standing before him and addressing him. Too late. As he gripped the crystal and looked in his hand, his body began to become less substantial and phase with the floor of the mine cavern. His body sank into the rock, only leaving the portion of his head above his mouth visible above the floor. He was stuck. One down, one to go.

Before Europa could finish pulling out her wand, Merrythought was attacking her with a vicious barrage of spells designed to tie her into a knot. Unfortunately, Europa was no longer in that space, and it was clear that the image of her was an illusion.

Simultaneously, the real Europa, who had stepped un-noticed several paces to the side, shot a powerful spell that passed through Merrythought and disintegrated three of the frozen wizards behind her. Merrythought was also adept at displacing her body while an illusion took her former place.

Merrythought immediately discovered the location of Europa and there was a sudden explosion of twelve Merrythoughts surrounding that location. One of the Merrythoughts smacked Europa in the face. This put Europa off balance and her reactions became a bit more desperate and unhinged. As Europa tried to blast the images of Merrythought, Merrythought worked to protect the lives of the other wizards in the room from the fallout of Europa's spells. The twelve Merrythoughts simultaneously screamed a thundering word that shook the whole cavern as the ceiling above Europa collapsed, but was held up by Europa's straining effort. Europa then realized that Merrythought was trying to protect the other wizards in the room, so started to randomly attack them with fire and barrages of attacks of fell spells… regardless of whether they were her allies or enemies.

"Shame, shame, shame!" exclaimed all twelve Merrythoughts. "You have no consideration even for the lives of your own adherents." She finished with a voice shaking from the effort of having to defend the surrounding wizards and the strain of bringing a cylinder of the rock that made up the roof of the chamber down on Europa's head. The surrounding wizards were forced to watch helplessly in frozen horror as their own leader tried to distract her enemy by killing them one at a time. If they could have shown regret for their choices, they would have. This was now a battle of near equals to the death...

The battle was fresh in her memory and she would have to spend some time considering all the clues and implications, but Merrythought had to focus back on what was happening in Dumbledore's office. She needed answers and wanted them before Dumbledore managed to escape her investigative foray. As her memories of the battle that so recently happened in the mines faded from her immediate consideration, she turned back to the familiar voice of Binns. He was explaining his perspective of the events to Dumbledore. "She even came over and helped me back up on my feet, just as the relief team of aurors arrived."

"It sounds like your execution was most creative and efficient Galatea. Perhaps you could give us all a bit of a lesson or refresher of how to deal with dark wizards. I hope we can have a more thorough discussion tomorrow morning, but for now I fear we should all get some rest. I have an early appointment with some representatives of the Ministry. Before you leave, I will let you know about a few developments on the continent and how we are maneuvering to aid some of our friends who are under threat of our adversaries." Dumbledore tried to steer the conversation to a discussion of tactics and current events, but Merrythought wanted nothing of it.

Merrythought leaned forward in her seat and held Dumbledore's gaze. "Now, I'm no longer going to put up with this nonsense about inside information. This attack or 'invasion' was only formulated at about the time you were calling us to your office. This isn't from a mole, it's from someone who knows about things before they've even happened. You are going to tell us where this information that you gave us came from?" Her demand was a challenge and an order, and its impact was amplified as she stood up, leaning with one hand still on the table, stared him in the eye, and threw the map and papers down on his desk. "Now."


	15. Chapter 14: The Late Message

**Chapter 15 The Veil**

The forest was comfortable and mossy. Tall tree trunks reached up through the dimly lit space, upward into the darkening boughs, merging together in a shadowy, mass to blot out the sky above. Only faint light and a few shimmering specks penetrated through the thick blanket of leaves. It was probably sunny above the barrier of verdure, but here it was comfortable, calm, and twilight below. The only sounds were small rustlings of birds and chipmunks, and Ben could just barely hear the trickling of a small creek that must be just beyond a sharp drop-off at the edge of a small, fern-lined embankment marking a narrow channel.

Ben lay there with sweat still dripping from his brow. He could just rest there, catching his breath while pondering the effort of the long defeat. Thus far, there has been little fruit resulting from his labors. The diffuse specter of doubt was rearing its head in his mind and he was on the verge of believing that all his visions were delusion. It would be entirely possible to just retreat and form a small, isolated enclave and let the war wash over and pass by. It would also be possible to just give in and live in the twisted society in anonymity while others suffered.

What he really wanted, for at least a short while, was to leave the visions behind. For the first time in a long while, he had decided he just wanted to be totally lost. After a long battle in which he, Fenice, Binns, and Merrythought fought desperately to eliminate a new threat, he just willed himself to disappear. He was pretty sure that several other wizards fighting with them were killed. They all felt it was worth it at the time because the attack could have conceivably left the entire island vulnerable to an invasion. He found himself just turning, and turning… from one immediate threat to the next. He knew it was child-like, but near to what seemed must be the end of the struggle, he fell to the ground and just stared at the sky. He willed himself to be where there would be no more visions. When he opened his eyes he was here.

As he sat up and considered his surroundings, Ben's torso rose above the green and brown undergrowth. Looking in all directions, he had the sensation of being in big broad cathedral or greek temple with pillar-like trunks bridging the vertical space between the canopy and undergrowth. The setting was cut only by the small stream valley and the pillar-like trees continued off into the distance on the other side as well.

As Ben focused on his more immediate surroundings, his eyes met with those of a small, gnarled woman that sat at the base of one of the nearby trunks. A wan smile on her calm face was the only clue that he was not entirely unwelcome.

She started to speak quietly, her voice muffled by the dense foliage surrounding the two of them. "I have called to you and you have finally come. You are too late for us. You could not have stopped it."

Ben sat silently and listened. As of yet, he had nothing to say, and was entirely spent as a result of the recent struggle. From the tone and cadence, he could tell that she was, at least partially, in the midst of a seer's vision.

"I have fought the fight and have lost. My people will not survive, except for a few… and for what? All because a man who speaks without thinking is greedy for power. His minions coddle every misstatement no matter how ludicrous. The falsehoods become true in their minds. Individuals and whole cultures are mocked at first, shunned and ostracized, and then the killings will follow. They have already begun here." She took a deep breath and hung her head for a few seconds before looking back up.

When she started speaking again, she was looking directly into his eyes. "You know that the fruits of your labors may not ripen until many years from now. All of my labors have failed, except for one hope that by bringing you here, your effort may one day come to fruition and open up some new probabilities."

At this, Ben's eyes widened. He didn't think there were many who could visualize the arrays of possibilities as he did, but from the way she spoke, it might be possible that this woman might. He wondered who she was, but found it impossible to speak.

"You will have no visions here. That is a condition, and that was your wish. That was what made it possible to bring you. You cannot exist here for very much time… but neither will I. When I am done speaking, stand up and walk down the path next to the stream in that small valley. It will take you to a road. Turn left up the road and walk to the chateau. Soon it will be a grim place." She paused a while, seeming to take in and consider the implications of her own words.

"There you will witness an act that will create an impenetrable veil. You will be the only one able to destroy it. But only if you are successful in your other tasks. Eventually you will need to take something from Grindelwald and leave an emptiness in him. But today, you will just be a witness. For your greater struggle, you will need this." She threw a chain with a small, glass ampulla dangling like a locket. "I know that you will take more, but at least this vessel will protect you. It will also protect you here as you witness the creation of an unstoppable force. Just follow your senses and watch."

Ben held up the chain and looked at the swirling shapes within the ampulla. He put it around his neck and stood up.

"Go now, and don't speak!" She commanded. "Do not seek out my name for I have failed my people. Perhaps through you there can be some hope. It's all I have left and it is now your burden. I have nothing now, not even tears."

As if in a trance, Ben left her. He walked toward the small stream, down the embankment and downstream along a small path. After about an hour of walking, he came to a road, turned left and walked for another several minutes.

A fence line appeared on the right side of the road and it eventually led to a gate. Above the gate was an iron archway that had lettering in ironwork between metal spans. The letters spelled out: _Für das höhere Wohl._

He walked through the archway and up the drive to a broad, flat, tree-lined field that spread out before a large, foreboding, stone mansion. He found himself walking toward a large bonfire that was engulfing an immense tabular stone slab. Within the fire, a person stood who did not burn. He was chanting something and a crowd of cloaked figures around him responded as if answering to a sermon. With a shout, the not burning man gave a command and placed his hand on the center of the stone table. A great crack was heard and the rock began to split apart. It was not as if a crack had formed and it was halved, but rather as if the watcher had suddenly developed double vision and two images of identical stones formed and began drifting apart. The two identical stones separated and one began drifting away towards the edge of the field, demarcating the edge of an expanding circle for which the other stone remained at the center. A faint, dome-like mist appeared to rise up and over the procession and spread and grow as the now, moving stone drifted into the forest and beyond.

"It is done!" Shouted the man within the fire. As he stepped out from the angry blaze, he continued to speak. "No wizardry will penetrate this wall and its power will grow as it expands. It will eventually engulf those that would stand against us. We will dismantle their defenses bit by bit and will end up with no force that can defy us."

As the speaker stepped through the crowd, Ben could now see that this was Grindelwald himself. Grindelwald's gaze focused on Ben, and with a suddenly surprised and concerned look, he sprinted the distance toward Ben. Ben could not move or speak.

As Grindelwald approached, he screamed in a hysterical voice. "What apparition are you? A ghost? Who sent you? It's too late. No wizard or witch can Stop this spell. Not even I can. It takes two, but can only be one, and we are watching and guarding. Begone!" A hand reached out to grasp Ben, but it passed through his body.

At that, Ben found himself back on the ground, surrounded by noise. As his senses came about, he could see that he was at the site of the previous battle. Binns was leaning over him.

"Ben! Oh thank goodness! Can you stand? We have to flee. We have failed here and need to regroup."

Ben had to shift gears in his brain to try to comprehend what was happening. He was starting to realize it was as if he never left the fight. He must have been unconscious and dreamed the splitting stone and the burning man who didn't burn. He was also realizing time was running out to get to Cambridge and his mechanism to perform the next stage of his task there. This was going to be difficult if he had to continue fighting and make it in time.

"Come on Ben, please try to stand and come with me. We will have reinforcements, but we still need you to stand and fight if you can. I can get us to some friends, but we can't afford to lose you now." Binns words were more of a command than reassurance.

Ben got his strength together to try to stand. As he did, a chain slipped out of his shirt. Dangling from around his neck was a tiny ampulla that contained a glowing mist. Ben didn't have a chance to react to the shock of the presence of the chain that should have just been part of a vision. At that moment, Binns grabbed his hand and they disapparated to a place that would be safe, but only until the enemy arrived in just a few minutes.


	16. Chapter 15: The Veil

**Chapter 15 The Veil**

The forest was comfortable and mossy. Tall tree trunks reached up through the dimly lit space, upward into the darkening boughs, merging together in a shadowy, mass to blot out the sky above. Only faint light and a few shimmering specks penetrated through the thick blanket of leaves. It was probably sunny above the barrier of verdure, but here it was comfortable, calm, and twilight below. The only sounds were small rustlings of birds and chipmunks, and Ben could just barely hear the trickling of a small creek that must be just beyond a sharp drop-off at the edge of a small, fern-lined embankment marking a narrow channel.

Ben lay there with sweat still dripping from his brow. He could just rest there, catching his breath while pondering the effort of the long defeat. Thus far, there has been little fruit resulting from his labors. The diffuse specter of doubt was rearing its head in his mind and he was on the verge of believing that all his visions were delusion. It would be entirely possible to just retreat and form a small, isolated enclave and let the war wash over and pass by. It would also be possible to just give in and live in the twisted society in anonymity while others suffered.

What he really wanted, for at least a short while, was to leave the visions behind. For the first time in a long while, he had decided he just wanted to be totally lost. After a long battle in which he, Fenice, Binns, and Merrythought fought desperately to eliminate a new threat, he just willed himself to disappear. He was pretty sure that several other wizards fighting with them were killed. They all felt it was worth it at the time because the attack could have conceivably left the entire island vulnerable to an invasion. He found himself just turning, and turning… from one immediate threat to the next. He knew it was child-like, but near to what seemed must be the end of the struggle, he fell to the ground and just stared at the sky. He willed himself to be where there would be no more visions. When he opened his eyes he was here.

As he sat up and considered his surroundings, Ben's torso rose above the green and brown undergrowth. Looking in all directions, he had the sensation of being in big broad cathedral or greek temple with pillar-like trunks bridging the vertical space between the canopy and undergrowth. The setting was cut only by the small stream valley and the pillar-like trees continued off into the distance on the other side as well.

As Ben focused on his more immediate surroundings, his eyes met with those of a small, gnarled woman that sat at the base of one of the nearby trunks. A wan smile on her calm face was the only clue that he was not entirely unwelcome.

She started to speak quietly, her voice muffled by the dense foliage surrounding the two of them. "I have called to you and you have finally come. You are too late for us. You could not have stopped it."

Ben sat silently and listened. As of yet, he had nothing to say, and was entirely spent as a result of the recent struggle. From the tone and cadence, he could tell that she was, at least partially, in the midst of a seer's vision.

"I have fought the fight and have lost. My people will not survive, except for a few… and for what? All because a man who speaks without thinking is greedy for power. His minions coddle every misstatement no matter how ludicrous. The falsehoods become true in their minds. Individuals and whole cultures are mocked at first, shunned and ostracized, and then the killings will follow. They have already begun here." She took a deep breath and hung her head for a few seconds before looking back up.

When she started speaking again, she was looking directly into his eyes. "You know that the fruits of your labors may not ripen until many years from now. All of my labors have failed, except for one hope that by bringing you here, your effort may one day come to fruition and open up some new probabilities."

At this, Ben's eyes widened. He didn't think there were many who could visualize the arrays of possibilities as he did, but from the way she spoke, it might be possible that this woman might. He wondered who she was, but found it impossible to speak.

"You will have no visions here. That is a condition, and that was your wish. That was what made it possible to bring you. You cannot exist here for very much time… but neither will I. When I am done speaking, stand up and walk down the path next to the stream in that small valley. It will take you to a road. Turn left up the road and walk to the chateau. Soon it will be a grim place." She paused a while, seeming to take in and consider the implications of her own words.

"There you will witness an act that will create an impenetrable veil. You will be the only one able to destroy it. But only if you are successful in your other tasks. Eventually you will need to take something from Grindelwald and leave an emptiness in him. But today, you will just be a witness. For your greater struggle, you will need this." She threw a chain with a small, glass ampulla dangling like a locket. "I know that you will take more, but at least this vessel will protect you. It will also protect you here as you witness the creation of an unstoppable force. Just follow your senses and watch."

Ben held up the chain and looked at the swirling shapes within the ampulla. He put it around his neck and stood up.

"Go now, and don't speak!" She commanded. "Do not seek out my name for I have failed my people. Perhaps through you there can be some hope. It's all I have left and it is now your burden. I have nothing now, not even tears."

As if in a trance, Ben left her. He walked toward the small stream, down the embankment and downstream along a small path. After about an hour of walking, he came to a road, turned left and walked for another several minutes.

A fence line appeared on the right side of the road and it eventually led to a gate. Above the gate was an iron archway that had lettering in ironwork between metal spans. The letters spelled out: _Für das höhere Wohl._

He walked through the archway and up the drive to a broad, flat, tree-lined field that spread out before a large, foreboding, stone mansion. He found himself walking toward a large bonfire that was engulfing an immense tabular stone slab. Within the fire, a person stood who did not burn. He was chanting something and a crowd of cloaked figures around him responded as if answering to a sermon. With a shout, the not burning man gave a command and placed his hand on the center of the stone table. A great crack was heard and the rock began to split apart. It was not as if a crack had formed and it was halved, but rather as if the watcher had suddenly developed double vision and two images of identical stones formed and began drifting apart. The two identical stones separated and one began drifting away towards the edge of the field, demarcating the edge of an expanding circle for which the other stone remained at the center. A faint, dome-like mist appeared to rise up and over the procession and spread and grow as the now, moving stone drifted into the forest and beyond.

"It is done!" Shouted the man within the fire. As he stepped out from the angry blaze, he continued to speak. "No wizardry will penetrate this wall and its power will grow as it expands. It will eventually engulf those that would stand against us. We will dismantle their defenses bit by bit and will end up with no force that can defy us."

As the speaker stepped through the crowd, Ben could now see that this was Grindelwald himself. Grindelwald's gaze focused on Ben, and with a suddenly surprised and concerned look, he sprinted the distance toward Ben. Ben could not move or speak.

As Grindelwald approached, he screamed in a hysterical voice. "What apparition are you? A ghost? Who sent you? It's too late. No wizard or witch can Stop this spell. Not even I can. It takes two, but can only be one, and we are watching and guarding. Begone!" A hand reached out to grasp Ben, but it passed through his body.

At that, Ben found himself back on the ground, surrounded by noise. As his senses came about, he could see that he was at the site of the previous battle. Binns was leaning over him.

"Ben! Oh thank goodness! Can you stand? We have to flee. We have failed here and need to regroup."

Ben had to shift gears in his brain to try to comprehend what was happening. He was starting to realize it was as if he never left the fight. He must have been unconscious and dreamed the splitting stone and the burning man who didn't burn. He was also realizing time was running out to get to Cambridge and his mechanism to perform the next stage of his task there. This was going to be difficult if he had to continue fighting and make it in time.

"Come on Ben, please try to stand and come with me. We will have reinforcements, but we still need you to stand and fight if you can. I can get us to some friends, but we can't afford to lose you now." Binns words were more of a command than reassurance.

Ben got his strength together to try to stand. As he did, a chain slipped out of his shirt. Dangling from around his neck was a tiny ampulla that contained a glowing mist. Ben didn't have a chance to react to the shock of the presence of the chain that should have just been part of a vision. At that moment, Binns grabbed his hand and they disapparated to a place that would be safe, but only until the enemy arrived in just a few minutes.


	17. Chapter 16: One Step Closer To Doom

**Chapter 16 One Step Closer To Doom**

January, 1936. As Ben stood bent in a half crouch with his hands on his knees, he nearly fell over in exhaustion. He studied the silvery trunk of the much grown laurel tree before him. The crown of leaves now stood well above his head. The green top-surfaces of the leaves with their silvery bottoms made the crown seem to shimmer in the sun's light and slight breeze. It had grown into a fine looking tree.

Ben, however appeared to be in complete disarray, and in need of some charity… if not a hospital bed and a good deal of sustenance. He was thin and ragged and looked much more than four years older than the last time he had been here. He was also covered in sweat and hadn't yet caught his breath. This had started out as yet another miserable day. Four years previously, he thought the choice he had to make was terrible. He was now confronting the realization that the accumulating weight of what has happened since then was beginning to crush his soul.

It started within weeks of his previous visit to his contraption here with the laurel tree. He woke with a choice. Two simultaneous attacks. How to help? The new system was working well and several attacks had been averted. The intensity and frequency of attacks was escalating. Perhaps the enemies were growing suspicious about the arrival of the ministry personnel within the nick of time. Perhaps this led to a change in tactics on Grindelwald's part. During this first several subsequent simultaneous attacks, it seemed easier to decide. It was a terrible choice to make, but the necessary decision was clear. Save one life or dozens.

But the attacks kept coming. Ben discovered one of the problems with preventing attacks was that since many of those in charge at the Ministry did not see or were not aware of the attacks, they did not believe they were happening. They were doing too good of a job.

Ben and Dumbledore had considered just letting the attacks happen. That option was quickly thrown out because they couldn't sacrifice any innocent lives to make, what seemed like, an unnecessary point. They appealed to the Minister of Magic and other officials, but were silenced and threatened just short of their lives to not spread what the Minister of Magic referred to as "falsehoods."

A propaganda program was launched by the Ministry to dispel rumors of attacks. They were doing the job of the enemy. In so doing, the Ministry had essentially become a propaganda wing of Grindelwald's forces. Ben and Dumbledore suspected that the Ministry had been infiltrated by spies… or at least individuals that were receptive to Grindelwald's views and accommodating to his requests. They just couldn't establish a connection with any credibility to be able to prove that this was the case.

The Ministry, in their great wisdom, discovered Eliza's on-the-ready teams of aurors and forced her to disband them because it gave people the impression that things were not under their control. So Ben and Dumbledore found themselves having to act alone. It also seemed that, with his heightened anxiety, Ben's sight became more unfocused and he wasn't able to visualize the pathways before him as clearly. This problem grew as his dread about choosing who would live and who would die became a palpable horror as the intensity of attacks mounted. He became more involved in the action. That put him into danger on a regular basis.

He finally gave in and took Binns and Merrythought much more deeply into his confidence. He even ended up bringing Merrythought more deeply into his plans than he had brought in Dumbledore. He had tried to avoid endangering the lives of his colleagues for the sake of their positions and families, up until it had all become too much for him to handle. The two professors actually were the ones that confronted Ben. He finally relented and told them all he could of his ability and his struggles.

That decision turned out to be one of the few good things to happen during this nightmare. They both turned out to be extraordinarily potent wizards, especially Merrythought. She always had more reserves than one would have thought possible. Under his direction, for a while they were managing to save significant numbers of lives through most of the crises.

Except, that is, for those attacks that occurred simultaneously. There were still the choices when the visions did not come in adequate time. Who to save. More? Closer? Easier? Were some people more important to save than others? Were we being biased? There were other incidents that happened totally unbeknownst to him, and he only learned the sad news days or weeks later. He felt that his abilities were failing him.

Enough attacks had begun to be successful as their ability to prevent them was diminished that the Ministry started to take heed. Up until this point, though, the Ministry's efforts were unorganized and lacked sufficient urgency. The dread of having to make so many life and death decisions continued to mount and his sanity began to slip quite precipitously during the last two weeks. He started to take even more risk upon himself and act preemptively. The most recent series of events led him to the moment he confronted now. He had barely escaped with his own life. Now, he is here entirely unprepared. There is no profound message to pass on to his older or younger selves. He has no idea who will get the message anyways. At least he knew how he had to go through the motions and then muster enough strength to produce dragonfire.

Ben stepped up before the tree trunk in one of the spots he had not used previously. With a wave of his wand and a word, all external light beyond a small circle around him, the tree and the mechanical contraption around the tree's trunk was blotted out. His other selves appeared. He gazed across at his older self, directly opposite, who gazed back at him with a look of caring and concern, but also a wan smile that was attempting to be reassuring. Ben wondered… what do you know that would ease my burden? Or would the things you could tell me only make my anxiety and burdens even heavier. At that he turned and he began the next steps of the ritual.

Twelve hours later, as the moon shone down and the dragonfire was spent on some future foe, Ben collapsed beneath the tree and slept.

Sometime later, while it was still dark, he woke quietly and thought about his past, present, and future as he rested. He was out in the open, but this may now be the only safe place left to him. Maybe, if he were lucky, he thought, he would just pass away where he lay. If only he could turn his back to the world and lay here for the next four years… but even then, there will be hard work to carry on. Maybe Dumbledore would eventually come here looking for him and find him dead.

That was a tempting thought. Just to remain and expire and let all the troubles wash around him and carry through as they will. The thought of Dumbledore pondering the purpose and meaning of the contraption he had built as well as the purposes of the items he would find on Ben's corpse intrigued him. Would there be a spell that would unravel the mystery of all the mechanism's functions and how to activate it? What use would it be anyways, since Ben's presence and will is needed to complete the process. What's more, even if he did understand it… would Dumbledore have the will, forethought, or desire to carry out a similar making? More than twelve years has been consumed by this folly. How can he make it through this final four. The idea of all the other items he carried that would also confound Dumbledore actually made him chuckle. Ben wasn't even sure what some of them were or how they could be used… such as the ampulla. Mysteries upon mysteries were binding him into a bizarre existence where he didn't quite belong in any of the worlds he was trying to save.

One thing could be said… since he has witnessed his fourth and oldest self in the ritual three times now, he is well aware that that individual's actions are different each time. His younger three selves have been consistent… what do they see? Do they see what he saw at each visit? Or do they see what his most recent self sees. Ben wondered if this means that there is some paradox that is created, or if the magic opens up the room for parts of the ritual to be different for each individual. This would take years of pondering. He now had four years before his next and final stage of the ritual to try to understand what was required of him.

Another thing that could be said is that his older self is indeed present. Does that indicate he has survived with certainty? What if he dies between now and then? Is there only one possible future where he survives, or is he just witnessing one of several possibilities? "I don't even know what sort of paradox might be responsible for the inconsistencies I've seen." The sound of his own voice breaking the silence startled him, but reminded him that he was alive. "Well… I'm not dead yet. I just have to make sure what I've done so far is worth it." He finished.

This last thought brings up more issues. Ben needed to realize that just making this new magic will not solve all the problems. He had to find a way to implement its new capabilities in a way that makes effective use of his efforts. He realized at this point, this is not just going to happen.

There is also the issue of the vision of the old woman in the forest. The appearance of the ampulla and chain around his neck was troubling for a number of reasons. Ben had gone to great lengths to conceal his abilities and actions. That this woman could conjure him out of the mists and pass potent magical objects through time and space has shaken his understanding of his own existence. How much of it could have been real.

Had it not been for the appearance of the ampulla around his neck as he and Binns fled to temporary safety just a few hours ago, he might have brushed off the vision as just another obscure hallucination that may or may not be connected to anything real. What the purpose of the item could be is something he would have to investigate more deeply. There, as yet, had not been ample opportunity to do so, so there it sits around his neck. Another puzzle for Dumbledore to work out should he find it on Ben's corpse. That is… if he were to expire at this moment in this place. Ben was trying to decide if that was wishful thinking, cautious concern, or dread.

Ben would also have to try to figure out where the vision had taken place and what the ritual he witnessed may have been that created the expanding veil. There were few clues to its location. He knew that many witching communities had been fighting the forces of Grindelwald and that some were failing. The communities that would stand up against him have been becoming fewer and more isolated. The old woman's reference to her failure does not bode well for many communities that would get in the way of the growing forces of evil spreading across Europe.

That ritual and the veil it seemed to create were troublesome. How large would it grow? How far would it expand? What was it hiding and what would it keep out? Would he be able to penetrate it? All these questions were spinning around in his head and he didn't even know whether the vision was real or not.

Ben knew he needed to formulate a plan to implement his machinations in a way that would result in some new future path that would forge the hope for their survival. Both muggles and wizards will suffer for many years if Grindelwald is not curtailed.

Ben finally stood up and walked out of his safe area. He kept walking… and thinking… and wishing there was an open pub.


	18. Chapter 17: The Wall

**Chapter 16 The Wall**

"I haven't seen him for weeks." Dumbledore said with an incredulous shrug. "We need to find him. I wish I knew where he could possibly be. I'm pretty damned worried. His guidance thus far has been invaluable, and some things are happening that are quite disturbing and his expertise would help us understand…" He paused and looked down at his feet dangling above the water far below. "Some of the incidents involve suspected enemy supporters who have turned up dead as a result of very bizarre accidents. I am beginning to suspect that these occurrences could be as a result of his continuing efforts." Three wizards flew high above the English Channel. Merrythought and Dumbledore on broomsticks and Binns reclined on a paisley-upholstered chaise long, with a notebook and quill in his hands, taking notes. A small end table with a muscovite-shaded lamp and a teacup on top of it flew and rattled unsteadily alongside, constantly bumping and jiggling The end table just barely managed to keep up with the chaise.

Binns added with a worried voice, "He very well could be dead and that would be a terrible loss. I for one am hopeful that he is behind some of these accidents. Early on I was against using visions and the sight to act… but I've been convinced. Seeing him in action has left me quite amazed. When his eyes turn blue, he performs some amazing feats, that often seem counterintuitive… but have stunningly effective results."

Dumbledore responded. "Yes indeed! I've never seen anything like it in the human wizarding world. What I'm sure you both understand is that he's had some sort of overarching goal to all his efforts. He has not revealed them entirely to me and I am hoping there may be something that the two of you can help me understand. We have not lost the war yet, but it has been a very long fight and we are falling further behind. Although he's proven himself time and time again, I'm not sure where this is all going… and each time I've spoken to him, he seems more unhinged. I hate to say it, but I, for one, am beginning to lose faith in this 'long term' plan that he had originally told me about almost, fourteen years ago. What am I saying… he never told me the plan. There's always an excuse or sudden departure before I can get straight answers." Dumbledore continued with a slight tinge of incredulity. "I will try to remain faithful as long as I can, but when I brought him out here to see this, it was as if all the blood drained from his face. After that, he has totally disappeared and won't respond to any query."

Merrythought flew a bit closer to Dumbledore and Binns so she could say something a bit more quietly… even though they were the only ones in sight. Events over the previous several years have made all wizards extremely cautious about speaking and being heard… even out in the open where there could be no possible eavesdropping on three such potent wizards. "I also am not fully within his confidences. I have tried. I have attempted to reassure him that he could trust me and use my support, but to no avail. I have performed acts that, without trust in him and faith in his abilities, would have resulted in my death. I don't know what more I could do to convince him that he has my complete trust and I am willing to put my life in his hands. The most I could get out of him was that there would be some sort of skip and jump off of the current array of possibilities. I do not fully understand his jargon."

Dumbledore continued to ponder the implications of all he knew. "He said something has to be done to create new probabilities. The word he used was paradox. I'm well versed in magic, but at the very root of the definition of paradox that I believe he is cleaving to… I think it could lead to dangerously risky conditions that could very well result in unacceptable ethical choices."

"Hmm…" Binns pondered these words and then continued. "One of the great foundations behind his effectiveness has been his complete anonymity. If he moves in the direction you are hinting at, we may have need to move and stop him. We may need to expose him… or at least threaten to expose him. Will he listen?"

Merrythought jumped in to answer the question. "I for one refuse to expose his efforts. We need to stand behind him. I understand your ethical dilemma. I am going to put myself in the position of being pathetically optimistic that the paradox of which you speak is simply the paradox of making an impossible choice between two equally undesirable options. I am not blindly making my choice, but would certainly revisit my decision if more data were to be presented. What I have seen up to this point is wholehearted dedication to making the right, ethical choice by our friend. You are too quick to bring up abandoning him at what could be his moment of greatest need." As Merrythought's words trailed off into the wind, she pulled up her broom and all three came to a stop, gazing ahead into what seemed like an abyss of nothingness. "What in the world do we have here?" She betrayed her uncertainty and fear in her whisper.

The three wizards flew slowly toward a dark horizon that seemed to be where the world came to an end. The ocean seemed to climb upward along a wall-like front, with streamers of steam and fountaining spurts spraying upward into what was a monstrous wall of swirling gray and black clouds that blocked the entire horizon. "I don't know how you can cut off a whole continent, but they appear have to managed it." Dumbledore said.

Binns and Merrythought took in the whole expanse of the new wall. "What is it and what are its properties?" Merrythought asked.

"It seems," replied Dumbledore. "That it disallows physical and mental penetration by magic and magical individuals. When I brought Ben out here to investigate with me several weeks ago, he said it was a great emptiness. His abilities could not see past it, almost as if the entire continent did not exist. We think it started as a very diffuse, difficult to detect haze. Ben wouldn't speak to me of its origins if he knew anything. He was very defensive and seemed somewhat panicked." Dumbledore paused for several seconds as if reliving those few moments and trying to re-interpret the reaction he saw in his memory.

After a shake of his head, he continued. "Some spies of ours on the continent noticed it, very thin, very weak, expanding out of Nurmengard almost four years ago. Once it hit the channel, it exploded into this impenetrable wall. It has stopped, for now. It does cross the land at one point at the village of Le Sodit, just west of Calais. We now have this to deal with, but we also have an insurrection. Ben's warnings have been the key to staving off many attacks, but especially those formulated by some of our own people on this side of the channel. There are still quite a few wizards here that are of like minds with Grindelwald. They have been very effective in swaying people to their cause."

"Ben's warnings have been instrumental in stemming the rising tide, but when will the tide break? What am I saying… it looks like it is breaking before our eyes." Binns said, gazing upward. "At some point our efforts will falter… especially without the assistance of these seemingly haphazard and random urgent missions. Thus far, they have proven to be saving lives and holding back the certain defeat that seems to be edging closer… at least on our side of the channel. Apparently the other side of the channel is completely lost." Binns paused to wave a hand that caused a slight indentation in the wall, as if probing. It bounced back and rebounded uncomfortably close to their position before falling back to its original position. "I will not discount the value of Ben's warnings and his guidance, but perhaps we are too reliant on them and need some sort of plan to fall back on. I feel like a drug addict or alcoholic totally reliant on feeding an addiction." The three flew alongside the wall for several minutes in silence, looking for anything they could note about its aspects.

"He seemed to have gotten to a breaking point Four years ago." Dumbledore continued, breaking the monotony of the constantly blowing wind. "He disappeared for eighteen weeks and without his forewarnings, we would have descended into chaos very shortly thereafter if he had not reappeared."

"We are now quite certain that Grindelwald and his minions have a suspicion about how we get our information. What's more, Ben may be giving them another reason to step up their activity. Take a look at this note I found on my desk the day after the last time I saw him." Dumbledore handed Merrythought a parchment.

"Yes, what's this?" Merrythought squinted and skimmed down the page. "A list. A list of names. Blovius Spittlebaum it says on the first line. These are the names of people I have been trying to track down. I know a few of them personally. What a terrible name… Blovius Spittlebaum. Some parents need a good talking to about naming their children. That is atrocious."

"Well he's dead." Dumbledore announced bluntly. "He and the first seven names on that list have been murdered." Dumbledore said gravely as the three dipped to take a closer look at the base of the wall. "And what's more, they were killed in that order." He turned to face the other two over his chair and leaned back on his broom, as if stretching a stiff back. "I think what we have here is vigilante killing. You might call them preemptive strikes?"

"You think that Ben is running around killing suspected dark wizards?" Binns said while leaning back in his chair, placing his palm on his forhead, as if it would help him to consider the new information. "I've got to wrap my brain around this and its implications."

Dumbledore went on to describe each of the murders.  
"They each involved a gruesome display of apparent willing submission to death. Notes on some of the individuals seem to be self-authored by the individual. What's more, upon examination of the body, the individual appears to be much older than they should be. The note indicates reliving a horrifying experience over and over again, in some sort of loop. The letters end in a common thread of begging for death." He breathed out and gazed into space. "I can't imagine that anyone deserves the horrible fates detailed in some of these notes… if they are true." Dumbledore finished with his head down, visibly shaken.

After numerous minutes, Binns finally broke the monotony of the roaring of the wall. "Do we stop him, or do we let him continue."

"We can't let him go around murdering people." Dumbledore said. "I can't believe you would even consider allowing this to continue. If these people are guilty of something, then they need to be tried in a fair manner. Thus far, they had not been known to have been guilty of anything."

"We're at war!" Merrythought burst in. "I know some of the people that are listed here have done abominable things and their deaths get us closer to solving our problems."

"They don't." Insisted Dumbledore. "We need to resolve these issues at their root. Most of these people are pawns in a conflict that they do not understand. If they are killed, there will be another to take his or her place. From what we are seeing from some of our known agents… when they are killed, our adversaries become inflamed as wild animals and have been seeking out revenge without concern about innocent bystanders."

"None of these people are innocent." Merrythought cut in, waving the parchment with the list. "We have to stop pretending that most of Grindelwald's lackeys are ignorant of the cost and consequences of their actions. They are fully aware of what they are doing and why they are doing it. They are not blind supporters. They promote falsehoods with brazen complicity. If we find that Ben is gone, then we should consider continuing going down that list."

I'm not ready to commit to such a thing. "Binns cut off Merrythought. "We should, however, be open to discussion and we are on the cusp of needing to start that discussion very soon. We can't go on much longer without acting. I'm just not sure that it's in the direction in which Ben seems to be leading us." He finished.

Dumbledore hung his head. Perhaps we are approaching an endgame. The end of the line. When did this all get so hopelessly beyond our control?" Dumbledore inhaled a quick breath and looked up with an astonished expression. "What is the date?"

"It is January 27th." Replied Merrythought.

"My word… For goodness' sake… It hadn't occurred to me." Dumbledore turned his broom back around to face his friends, with one hand pressing his fingers against his temples. "This is the day that Ben and I completed a Fidelius charm all those years ago. Twelve years ago, it must be. Then that same date several years later was the HMS M2 incident."

Merrythought jumped in and continued the narrative. "And it was four years ago in late January, early February that he disappeared after a series of very tricky and close fights. We made it through by the skin of our teeth."

She paused for several moments. Then continuing slowly, her speech grew more certain, louder and faster as she became more confident of her line of reasoning. It was as if something that had been bothering at the back of her mind her was finally climbing to the top of her consciousness. "During the last few days, some of Grindelwald's 'anonymous' supporters… ones that we were not, until recently, aware of being his supporters… have been snooping around Hogsmeade. One of the shopkeepers told me that several had been hanging around and asking about Ben. Now that I think about it, I've seen them in some of the places he frequents… just sitting quietly." She was trying to figure out how these might fit… but to no avail.

Dumbledore jumped back to reasoning out the timing of events and the day's date. "Four phases in total." His eyes were wide as his mind spun and implications started clicking together. He was trying to get the discussion back to catch up with his whirling thoughts. "When we set the charm, he said he would have to return three more times."

Blinking and now with a serious and certain look on his face, Dumbledore came to the conclusion that still left him with unanswered questions… although going there could be a pathway to their resolution. "I know where we can find him." Dumbledore stated, gazing back toward the west.

"You could lead us there, but you would be making us secret keepers. We should not be trusted. We're all being watched and tracked. You could inadvertently lead others there as well."

At that moment, Sweeney Humphreys appeared and flew up, joining the inspection. He was a bit out of breath and had a bit of a stutter or shiver as he began. "Oh, oh, oh, I'm g-g-glad I found the three of you. I thought this might be another wild goose chase. Grindelwald and a whole army of dark wizards has descended on Cambridge. Our losses are mounting."

Dumbledore turned to his fellow inspectors. "Well, my friends… I guess I have a secret to tell you."


	19. Chapter 18: Grindelwald's Gripe

**Chapter 17 Grindelwald's Gripe**

January, 1940. "Are you sure she's dead?" Grindelwald looked up with an expression that shifted constantly between excited, angry, and crazed. He held the list in his hands that showed the names of some of his most trusted minions. It had appeared quite mysteriously, unsigned, on his desk. The first eight names were crossed out.

"Yes." Said the cowering wizard that brought the unwanted news. Grindelwald's eyes rolled back in his head for a moment and he lifted his wand. The wizard before him flinched and held his hands up in front of him.

"I… Just… How in the world is this happening. There is some…" Grindelwald started rambling insanely. "What is their source. Who is their source. I can't trust anyone. Bring me the body!" He screamed as he brought his wand down with a swift motion and used it to cross off the next name on the list. "This gushing wound has to be cauterized. Now go and figure out how it was done and how they figured out that she was working for us and how they figured out where she was hiding. These setbacks keep spoiling my impending triumph, setting my plans back."

There was a body lain out on a table in front of Grindelwald. It appeared to be an extremely weathered elderly gentleman whose body was barely covered by tattered black robes. As Grindelwald turned to the body, it was clear that he was returning to a chore that was rudely interrupted by the fresh bit of bad news. He raised his wand and focused his concentration to pick up where he had left off. He carefully carried on by continuing an interrupted chant.

After several repetitions of the half guttural and half sing-song spell, a mist slowly rose from the body before him. As it coalesced into a barely recognizable shape of what must be a ghost or apparition of the man whose body was before him, Tikos Epanalip.

Grindelwald called the name and commanded the mist to speak. "Tikos! Who did this to you? Yesterday you were a young man. Now you are old and dead and it was clear that you wished to die."

"Is it finally tomorrow?" a faint whisper with a thick greek accent drifted above the body as the mist spoke. "Yesterday, yesterday, yesterday. I've had thousands of yesterdays… or did it just seem to last forever. He finally released me… and you've brought me back. I am through. I am tired. I don't want to be any more." The voice stopped briefly as the mist appeared to turn from side to side as if to survey its surroundings. "I wandered endlessly through a world of statues… not able to touch… not able to speak… not able to die. I could not lift my wand. And you've brought me back." The mist continued to solidify and the expression on the face that was vaguely materializing changed from one of fear and uncertainty, to one of anger. "Now you continue my existence… my hell… my suffering. I am no longer your thrall." The shadow lashed out and struck his summoner in the hand that was gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white. The ghostly hand passed through the wand and hand, making Grindelwald recoil in pain, dropping the wand.

The misty figure gazed toward the ground where the wand fell. As it spoke, the voice became more distant and harder to understand. "You cannot harm me with that any more. You will lose something today… but not that… yet. You are at your zenith. The sun will start to set. I can no longer see clearly. Fate has died. There is a paradox around you. Someone has forged an anvil. The smith can see how his strikes will fall. Kill him if you can. He can see you coming" With that barely audible whisper, the mist faded.

Grindelwald bent over and frantically picked up his wand. He clumsily aimed his wand at the corpse and desperately screamed the spell at the body before him. His wand exploded with a spark and he recoiled in pain. He momentarily recovered his composure, but when he went to pick up his wand, his hand was unresponsive. This time when he examined his hand, it was useless. It was numb and curled into a claw. He stared in fearful hate at his hand as he tried to wave and unclench it.

"Master, we are tracking the person who we think is responsible for these… mysterious deaths. He was spotted leaving the place where we found the most recent body. We've been following and monitoring him since then and he is apparently unaware of our surveillance. His name is Ben Adarwayne, the one-time professor of divination. We've suspected his activity before. He has been observed in and around a number of the places where we've had recent… misfortunes." Grindelwald stumbled forward, grasping the speaker with his claw-like hand. It was beginning to respond again, but the fingers and wrist were bent in a grotesque angle. He saw the futility of trying to grab the speaker, so fell back onto a couch and cradled his hand in his chest while his other hand caressed his forehead with his eyes closed. The wizard, named Mapes, continued, quite relieved that he was still standing, but also glad to have news that might be considered important.

"Ben Adarwayne…" Grindelwald considered the name, trying to place it for several seconds. Then, he recalled the thin and wasted professor of divination.

"Adarwayne is a bumbling nobody, even in his own field. He must be a diversion." He sat, still with his eyes closed, considering the information. "This is madness. Why would we waste our time on a worthless, incompetent professor of divi-" Grindelwald stopped as the realization dawned on him. Who would ever suspect someone who works in one of the least dependable fields of wizardry… unless… unless he wasn't as undependable as the rest. Unless he was not as addled as he seemed. Startled, Grindelwald looked down at the list. He blinked his eyes as if trying to clear them. Looking closely, he realized the last name on the list was… Ben Adarwayne. At the end of his name was odd punctuation that included a semicolon followed by a right parentheses.

Grindelwald stared at the mark for a few seconds, cocking his head with his mouth opened in a somewhat dumb expression. His gaze suddenly focused with a shocked inhale. Looking up, he grinned with his teeth bared in a vicious smile and turned to Mapes. "Where is he. Take me. Now!" He turned to Mizar as he walked out the door. "Get the others. We are going to trap this rat and finish him once and for all."


	20. Chapter 19: An End

**Chapter 19 An End**

Ben stood in the space where the only source of light was the warm, brilliant incandescence radiating from the bay tree that stood before and above him. The light didn't seem to illuminate anything beyond the small circle. All beyond this close perimeter was darkness, emptiness. He studied his younger selves as he proceeded with the final phase of the ritual. What could they possibly tell him as they passed him their thoughts. What warning or new information could come from this passage.

Hours earlier, when he had arrived on the Bowling Green at Pembroke this final time, he collapsed once again within the protected space. He had roused a wasp-nest. In the last four days, he had stretched his resources, imagination, and strength as far as they could possibly be stretched, short of losing his sanity and life. He had breathed a sigh of relief as he lay exposed on the lawn. This time, the grass was dry and it was an unseasonably warm and sunny day for late January. Of course, the clear sky would probably mean a cold night. He fell asleep and he rested. He dreamed. He dreamed of fire and falling stars.

When he woke, he sat contemplating the shadows moving around just beyond his protected area. He had a meal prepared that he pulled out of his sporran. That helped revive some of his sanity and allowed him to think more clearly. Those shadows were searching for him. Perhaps many more that he could not see. Finding him and his resulting death would rank high on their list of accomplishments. He had doomed his mission. He sat within his quiet, private arboretum on the edge of disaster, contemplating how even if he survived this final phase, there would be no way out if the making failed.

Back and forth the shadows passed. Some seemed close enough to touch. Some faces were almost visible, but as though through a blurry veil that prevented the clear image from revealing their distinct characteristics. Ben had led them here. It had been a hard choice to make. It would have been easier to just finish the process in peace, but a warning from a reliable source with no uncertain terms had made it clear that there could be no turning back and that a violent act of birth would be necessary at the end of this process.

Ben had searched through all his compilations, libraries, and within himself to find what this violent act might be. He spoke with colleagues that he dared trust and with shades such that he risked his very soul to summon. With still just a vague understanding of what would need to happen, he set to desperate work to make certain that if he failed, he would take as many of his enemies with him. Perhaps even Grindelwald.

In order to do this, he decided he had to lure his enemies to this spot. He was forced to leave clues just short of compromising the charm that protected this place. His biggest fear was that too few would come, or that Grindelwald would not expose himself so deep in unoccupied territory. Ben felt sure that Grindelwald's overconfidence would drive him to venture beyond his wall. For the ones that are searching now, the alien shadows that he watched through the protective veil, the continuing search and wait will become an hours long vigil.

It had been twelve years since he first turned the key in the mechanism. Years prior to that went into planning, preparing, tending, gathering, and making… just to get to this point. Now he realized he was committed to a plan for which the outcomes were, at that moment, quite uncertain. Should he fail, he had to be prepared to accept the waste of it all and sacrifice his life and the lives of many others to salvage some consolation. The acts of the enemy have been unforgiveable and would grow in cruelty and ferocity in the coming years. Many of them will perish either way. So be it.

As time has seeped by during the slow progression of this process and as the past two decades of his life had been given to this desperate, slim hope… with a blink… before he realized it, he was in his penultimate position in the final phase of the ritual. He was passing instructions to his three younger selves. Although it had seemed different from those other positions, from this perspective, the years seemed to have passed in a flash. He had survived to finish the process.

He realized at this point that he, the oldest was both the taker and giver for all three. He passed instructions three times. He took their thoughts three times. He tried to appear firm and reassuring to each of the three. He realized that would be difficult, considering the fact that he could not hide that his form was in complete disarray, dirty, torn, and bloody. He tried to recall his earlier impressions of himself. There was no memory of that any more.

The youngest Ben ended his procession and stood back, gazing across the circle at his eldest self and slowly began to fade from view. He, the eldest, took a deep breath in order to clear his mind and steeled himself for this final act that would require his complete focus.

The darkness surrounding the protected space had faded and the shadows moving around the space came into slightly better focus. The two middle aged Bens turned and breathed and together chanted a potent spell in order to release dragonfire on his pursuers. The resulting inferno swept the surrounding space clear of shadows. He stepped forward, passed through the gold and silver and the tree as if it were only an image, momentarily absorbing its light, and then stepped through the fading image of the youngest self. He emerged out onto the lawn, surrounded by a lush, mist-enshrouded verdure, crowned as a radiant figure. Out onto the small rise. Onto the rub in the midst of the green, dew-damp grass.

Exposed and shining under the night sky that peeked through a gaps in the shroud of mist covering the field, he paused. He held up his right hand high into the space between the murky, swirling dark fog around and above his head and beneath the stars. The surrounding mist seemed to be attracted as tendrils of it longingly appeared to reach toward his raised hand. With his fingertips together and pointed upwards as if to clasp an item and holding it up between them, he gazed upwards at the stars, and all was silent.

Then he spoke. Words of power, words of loss. An ancient language speaking of a queen that placed the stars in the sky. A song about banishment and the mystery of fading through the long, unrelenting defeat of time.

The starlight fell like streams of living fire, as discrete strands of light, plummeting and diving to the tip of his outstretched hand. The vision of the tree and golden latticework vanished in a maelstrom of light and color that sped, wrapping itself around him and shooting up to meet the descending starlight at his fingertips. The sudden liquidity of the motion of the landscape and sky left any who would have witnessed the spectacle with a powerful wave of vertigo, and the flash of light momentarily blinded all who were left staring in amazement.

Then, all was dark.

Ben stood alone on the small hill holding something between the tips of his fingers in his outstretched hand.

From the walkway straight ahead of Ben, a figure that could barely be seen in the darkness, raised his wand and screamed "Avada Kedavra!"

In the lingering flash of light that arced between the two men, Ben's face was a sickly shade of pale and his eyes widened in shock as his body fell forward.


	21. Chapter 20: Another Beginning

**Chapter 19 Another Beginning**

Dark wizards were on every street corner and in every alleyway for quite a few blocks in the vicinity of the Bowling Green. Getting to the center of the university was tricky, but the small group managed to elude their foes and get a strong force into place around the perimeter at the core of the infestation. A few lookouts had to be dispatched that were patrolling the rooftops. Dumbledore, Binns, Merrythought, Humphreys and several dozen aurors cautiously made their ways up to the peaks of the buildings surrounding the Bowling Green. Dumbledore peaked over the edge of the roof to see many more masked wizards lining the pathways surrounding the grassy area. Numerous other wizards were pacing and searching the green space with their wands before them. There was a glowing source of light emanating from the location that Dumbledore knew was where Ben must be. He could make out a dendritic shape with a trunk-like base and upward-stretching crown of shimmering light.

"Can any of you see that glow in the southeast end of the green?" Dumbledore asked in a whisper.

Binns peered over and scanned the area before ducking back down. "Yes, I think I can."

"Well, that shouldn't be. I'm not sure what is happening. Did it look like a silvery glowing tree?" Dumbledore queried for a more complete understanding.

"No. To me it just looks like a vague, misty, silvery haze. A number of wizards are focused around that spot" Replied Binns.

Dumbledore could see Humphreys and several other aurors across the way. Hopefully they would remain unseen by the wizards around the green. They had also managed to quietly apprehend several lookouts on the opposite rooftops before taking their places. There were far too many wizards below for the several dozen aurors to handle. Hopefully the rest of the reinforcements would arrive soon. He would regret having to engage the enemy in haste since it will likely destroy much of the place. What's more… Dumbledore thought he could make out Grindelwald standing on the walk closest to the glowing tree. He was most probably the someone with his wand out, trying to probe the space before him. Just by himself, Grindelwald could create tremendous amounts of destruction.

"We need more help. As it is, we will probably manage to destroy this entire town if we were to confront this group right here. Options. We need more options." Dumbledore harshly whispered to Binns and Merrythought.

At a shouted command "Shield!" almost all of the masked wizards raised their wands and a large, luminous, oval bubble grew outward and around the wizards in the central area. Trapping Dumbledore and his aurors outside. They could only see a distorted image of events as all but one wizard lowered their wands. One masked wizard kept his arm raised to maintain the shield and moved to a central location for stability.

Moments before, within the shielded area, the wizards were restless and as they began to doubt the need for the strength of force they had assembled, discussion became somewhat heated. "All this for one person? Gellert, we can take care of this. This could be a trap." Mizar tried to caution him. "We have no idea what is in that. It is clearly no ordinary spellcasting. Look how it is shining through and revealing a Fidelius. There has never been any such instance that any of us can dredge out of our memories or studies." He pointed toward the glow that was now situated just ten paces into the grassy area. "There could also be a whole bevy of aurors waiting to leap out. They could be coming down on us at the moment. I don't like being so exposed. He glanced up at a masked wizard on a rooftop, not realizing that that was merely an illusion."

"Mizar, we are protected and nothing can defeat this many of my close associates… and especially not me… when we are together." Grindelwald extended his arm to probe the glow that was slowly brightening before them. "Shield!" he yelled. The wizards raised their wands, and a darkly glowing shield wall emerged and spread and merged from their wands to form an impenetrable barrier. Grindelwald turned and said "No one is getting in, no one is getting out. Alcor, take the anchor." The stout, masked wizard stepped onto the grass to maintain the shield. "There, now we have even more protection."

"Mapes has assured me that this Adarwayne has been under surveillance for weeks now." Grindelwald explained. "He is apparently working alone and is unaware of us. He came here several times, but lost our trackers. This time, he was observed by one of our best trackers who is an animagus and was stationed in this court. He vanished at that very spot. There have been no other wizards in or out. We are pretty sure he is alone. True, we have perhaps too many for one kill, but we can use this to help reinforce our confederation. I want as many witnesses as possible. He has made a fool of me." He finished with a bit too much emphasis on the last sentence, revealing his failing grip on his composure.

As they watched, the glow began to take a tree-like shape and get brighter. There were suddenly figures visible within the area, and the brightness lit all of the two dozen wizards patrolling and probing the field in silhouette.

Up on the rooftop, Dumbledore was trying to see through the shielding when he suddenly felt a weight in the pocket of his robes. He reached his hand in and pulled out a small stone fossil of an ammonite. "That's funny. I'm sure these aren't even the same robes…" As he held the ammonite, it blossomed into a shield wall, protecting him, the building, and all the people surrounding him. At that same moment, on the building across the way, Fenice Eschman, an auror on the opposite team felt a weight in her pocket. She pulled out her lucky brachiopod fossil that she had found while a student at Hogwarts. It had been just sitting unclaimed on a windowsill in the hall. It blossomed into a shield that encompassed the remaining aurors on the buildings around her.

"Everybody hold. I want to see what becomes of thi-" Grindelwald was surprised by a sudden glow that was coming from the surrounding rooftops, but his attempt to call attention to it was cut off by flames gouting from the glowing tree-like area on the green that immediately took the form of dragonfire peeling off of in numerous directions from two main spouts on opposite sides of the light. All the wizards within several yards of the glow on the lawn were incinerated immediately. Grindelwald managed to curtail the fire with his Elder Wand and the help of all the surviving wizards, guiding and herding the fire up and away from them and onto the rooftops of the surrounding buildings. They were all pushed back up off the green area. To his surprise, the surrounding buildings were not harmed. But many of his forces were badly burnt and quite a few must clearly be dead. All of them that were within a few yards of the source were just grotesque heaps of ashes.

The central glow increased into a pillar of light that began to move and coalesced into a brilliant form walking across the lawn.

"Wait!" Grindelwald yelled, catching his breath. "Let this play out. There may be a prize to catch, and I want him to see who killed him."

The figure mounted the small rise in the middle of the green. With his hand held out above his head, stars fell from the sky in amazingly brilliant streamers to meet his outstretched hand. The entire area at the edge of the field where the hidden spot with its now visible mechanism and blindingly shimmering tree, shifted and flowed, melting into a psychedelic blur of colors and silvery light that sped after and into the bright apparition. Nearly all of the watchers swooned with vertigo and some helplessly fell over. Starlight and treelight exploded together to meet at the raised fingertips. The brilliant flash of light left everyone blinded for a few seconds. Suddenly, all stood in darkness, except for the shield wall, still supported by Alcor.

Grindelwald screamed his spell and a lightning bolt arced across the space, striking Ben square in the chest. All was quiet as the fading light from the curse showed the shocked face of a pale, dead man. He then toppled forward. And Grindelwald screamed, victorious.

The topple turned into a long step as the falling figure caught himself, and Ben looked up and met Grindelwald's eye. He held up his hand, so Grindelwald could see a golden object composed of two perpendicular rings with small handles jutting from each of their intersections. Within the rings, a spinning disc whirred around. Ben smiled… then disappeared, fading from view.

A dark brown moth floated slowly downward, landing on the ground where Ben had been standing… dead.

"Where did he go? What was that? Why isn't he dead!?" Grindelwald spun to his minions as they seemed to wake from a trance. "Where is he?"

"Salix!" Came a voice from behind Grindelwald as he was hit by a hex and then stumbled out onto the lawn.

"Here I am." Came Ben's voice from Behind.

As an unfamiliar and unforeseen spell began to take hold and his torso and neck began to stiffen. As his complexion began to turn knotty and bark-like, Grindelwald turned and saw Alcor Mawbray, who lowered his wand and removed his mask. The shield wall began to fade as Alcor's hand came down. The maskless face on the man that stepped forward, who he thought was Alcor Mawbray, was that of Ben Adarwayne.

Even as his feet began to succumb to Ben's spell and they elongated and rooted into the ground, and slender, flexible branches began sprouting out of his face with long, skinny leaves, Grindelwald smiled. With a voice that held a great deal of confidence, he addressed the man stepping forward. "You think you can hold me? I might warn you that… I think you may be outnumbered."

All of the dark wizards fell to the ground and were motionless.

"I think my odds just improved." Ben continued to walk toward Grindelwald.

Dumbledore, Humphries, and Fenice had made their way to the perimeter and started to disarm some of the montionless, masked wizards. "This man is dead." He said as he turned the face toward him and felt the neck for a pulse.

"What did you do?" Asked Grindelwald, first noticing and overhearing Dumbledore. A hint of panic began to penetrate his composure.

"I just saved thousands of lives." Ben replied.

Grindelwald tried to step back, but his feet had, at that point, solidly rooted to the ground. His body began a slow transformation that would eventually result in a large tree that would take up the middle of the empty green. Ben held his wand out and aimed it at Grindelwald's head. Grindelwald tensed as his fingers, arms, and back were quickly sprouting more branches that were becoming long enough to noticeably droop like a weeping shrub.

"I don't fear death. I will warn you, though that killing me will not be so easy." Grindelwald said in defiance.

"I will not kill you. You are going to live a very long life. I'm not even the one that will defeat you. I think, even now, you have some back-up or escape. Don't worry, you're not abandoning anybody. There's no one left to abandon. What I am going to do is take something from you. You will never know what it is that I have taken. You will know that I took it. It will haunt you. It will make you uncertain. It will make you stumble." As he spoke, a wisp came out of Grindelwald's temple as Ben raised his hand. The wisp finished with a sphere of silvery light, caught by his free hand that wore his uncle's ring with the red stone.

"NO!" At that moment, Grindelwald got hold of his wand and erupted into a pillar of red flame, and was gone.

Ben looked downward to the ring on his one hand as the stone now glowed red with its recent infusion. He closed his eyes to consider what these alien thoughts might reveal to him and the void it would create in their former possessor. He turned toward Dumbledore. He did not speak. As he pondered the possibilities, he saw some new avenues open up as a result of the systemic deviation caused by the paradox he had just created with the help of the powerful new toy he held in his hand. Not many… and the roads were still fraught with peril and death. Maybe, he thought, we could manage to steer the course onto one of those.

Ben disapparated with his device and his ruby ring and he was never seen by Dumbledore again.

Several more chapters are forthcoming.


	22. Chapter 21: The Rock On The Cliff

Chapter 21 The Rock On The Cliff

May, 1943. Ben lay in the field near the promontory where the stone sat above the cliff overlooking the ocean. Misty rain fell from the sky, soaking everything through his clothes and shoes. He couldn't risk drawing attention by attempting to cast a spell to stay dry. There was a Sun somewhere up above those clouds, but it would not show itself today. Pale light shone as a dismal glow, so as to only reveal a dim, grey landscape.

Numerous guards stood around the stone. They were vigilant and dedicated. They knew their responsibility and stood proudly in the rain in the shadow of its raw power. To the northeast and southwest, a great wall of water, foam, and mist extended upward into the sky and downward into the ocean. It reached out into the sea in either direction, enveloping an entire continent. It was thoroughly intimidating. They stood vigilantly, not because of any vulnerability of the stone, but because of the great favor their master showed them. As appointees to the Stone Guard, they would be so honored that they would soon be allowed into the inner circles of power.

Le Gris Nez, or the grey nose was the point of land jutting out into the ocean at which the stone had currently stopped. It sat just outside of Le Sodit, southwest of Calais. The wall that it, along with its twin at Nurmengard generated prevented wizards from the other side penetrating into the lands dominated by Grindelwald's forces. It also prevented wizards from being able to know or 'see' what atrocities were being committed behind the wall. Despite several recent setbacks, the forces of dark wizards were strong and protected behind their insurmountable defense.

Ben's main concern was that it would somehow eventually restart its slow advance and begin to swallow lands beyond this narrow body of water. It had to be stopped. The memories that he had stolen from Grindelwald did not contain the key to bringing about the demise of the wall created by the stone. It must have been hidden too deeply within his mind. Ben didn't understand how it would have been possible to hide such a prominent thought from his method of extraction. He did, however, glean how to get through the wall.

Working alone, since he was now truly a vigilante, and wanted on both sides of the wall, Ben lay in silence, watching. He knew all those wizards that had died by his hand several weeks before were and would have been guilty of unforgivable acts. Others did not know what he knew. He had to make a choice. He also, unfortunately, knew that many of those people could have potentially been brought back to reason. This, however would have required a tremendous effort, a great deal of time, and numerous, uncertain bumps an flashbacks along the way. Desperation drove him now. The greater good had to be his greater good.

Unfortunately, although his involvement was not known to the general public, enough of the Ministry knew he was responsible for the dozens of dead wizards. They were after him. Even if the Ministry knew and understood the facts and the potentialities, there were still enough moles that his life would be in grave danger were he to come forward and reveal the truth. Still, he doubted many would believe him. Where better to hide than the other side of the wall. They were wise to want him dead. He was now willing to kill… and he was quite effective at accomplishing it.

Several new arrivals had appeared and had started a heated discussion with the guards in place. Ben could not quite make out the words, but there was apparently some sort of a power struggle happening right before his eyes. One of the new arrivals actually struck one of the original three and all five seemed on the brink of a bar-room brawl. Then one of them yelled "NOW!"

Three of the guards suddenly disapparated. To Ben's clearly apparent surprise, all three apparated around him and immediately pounced on him, disarming him and knocking him unconscious.

When Ben came to, he was bound in a kneeling position with his hands tied to his feet behind him. As soon as the guard that was holding him saw that he was regaining consciousness, he let Ben go to kneel on his own. His head throbbed and his cheek and eye were swollen. He was certain the liquid dripping from his chin was not pure rain water any more. He had been searched. He could tell that he was no longer in possession of any of the items he had been carrying.

"We can't just leave him here. We've got to get him back to headquarters where we can hold him long term. We need to notify Grindelwald." Said a man's voice from Ben's left. "I think it's Adarwayne. I was part of the team that was tracking him." He finished.

"You're lucky to be alive in that case. If that is true, then this is too important. I don't want to risk another team taking credit. Let's send word first, and make it clear that we caught someone that may be Adarwayne. Let's not treat him too kindly though. Whoever he is, he is clearly a spy, and dangerous. He got too close." Said a woman's voice to his right. "Once we're sure and we have solidified our claim, we'll risk transporting him back to Grindelwald."

"There's only one place here that is secure enough to hold him. We can't be sure he doesn't have some other tricks up his sleeve." Continued the first voice. "Nothing can escape from the shielding protecting the stone." That seemed to catch the listeners by surprise. There was a sudden, brief inhale, then silence for a short while.

"I think the energy emanating from the stone would damage someone stuck inside those shields." Came the response after several seconds in which only the rainfall and waves could be heard.

"On the other hand, who cares? He's dead anyways." Said another voice. "Once Grindelwald gets his hands on him, there's no telling how he will be tortured. Besides, even if he died of the exposure, he would still be a kingly gift, damaged or dead."

"No!" Ben burst out as he struggled against his bonds and fell over onto his side. From there he could see the man and woman that were having the conversation. He did not know them. They both laughed and the man stepped over and kicked him.

"Throw him in and raise the wards." He ordered. "The stone is secure because only the Master can work its spell. It is invulnerable. We can sit in safety and watch him suffer."

Two more wizards stepped up and dragged Ben into the ring around the stone. They pointed their wands and spoke some words as a soft glow sealed Ben into an impenetrable tomb.

"He'll probably die within a couple of hours. Hurry up and deliver the message." The man said as he turned to the woman.

She nodded and smiled before disapparating.

He was surprised when he turned back to the now-occupied prison. Ben was already up and about and his hands were untied. He was exploring his new environment, probing the shields. When he noticed his jailer watching in surprise, he appropriated a more desperate demeanor.

"Please don't leave me in here. I will cooperate. I can already feel the radiation. I can't survive. I'm dying." He pleaded.

"I'm not sure what you mean by cooperation. Your only duty now is to die… eventually. Whether you die from the radiation or from the Master's wand, it does not matter to me. I don't think it will matter to him either. Although there is the small matter that if you are Adarwayne, maybe you could help us understand what exactly happened on that night in Cambridge all those weeks ago. That's the only value you have left. I feel confident you will survive long enough to face your death by His hand. No one will care. You are not very popular here or even in your home country. Anywhere, as far as I understand." He finished the last with a bit of ironic laughter.

Ben thought the tone was quite unsettling. He looked at his watch, then looked at the stone that was now sitting just feet behind him. His jailor looked on incredulously as he noticed that they had missed something as obvious as a watch. Ben looked back at his captor and asked, matter of factly... "Do you happen to have the time?"


	23. Chapter 22: Nevermore

Chapter 22 Nevermore

Fenice woke up. As she lay in her soft, warm covers, she came to a somewhat aware state. Something was amiss. She had been dreaming of flying… flying through the clear, blue sky. The white clouds around her and the sun shining down made a patchwork of green and gray on the landscape that overprinted the quilt-work of farmlands. The visible rays of the sun pierced the landscape and shimmered in her eyes. As she flew, she encountered white cliffs along a coastline and felt compelled to fly out across the water. In the distance, the white clouds and blue sky turned gray and black along a sharp line, forming a boundary that went all the way up into the sky and down to the water, and left and right, far as the eye could see. As she approached closer and closer, it began to dominate the horizon and all before her grew darker and darker. She kept going and going and going and found that she could not turn away from the wall. She was no longer controlling her flight. She struggled to regain control, but to no avail, the dream carried her on. She watched through her eyes as she was helplessly plummeting through the air toward the wall. She had seen what happens to people as their bodies impact that barrier. As she struggled, she began to wake herself and realize it was a dream. But that wasn't the only thing that gave her a chill as she shook off her dream and brought herself to consciousness. There was someone in her bedroom.

Fenice couldn't see the intruder, but she sensed its presence. As she lay there trying to focus her thoughts and locate any shadowy form while she grabbed her wand, the intruder spoke. "Fenice! You've got to wake up. I need your help." Croaked a voice from the dark. The muffled, struggling voice sounded like it was someone just a few steps from her bed.

"Fenice, you have to get a hold of two people and tell them to follow me. Right away, there is no time to spare. You need to get Cuthbert and Galatea. They need to come and perform a task. A task of which they do not yet know… but they will understand once you give them the catalyst. Alas, I think they will be too late to save my life.

"Ben? Is that you? Where have you been and how did you get in here? Where are you, I can't see you. We've been so worried. Even though things are better for us here, some people want your head. But that's just some people. Most want to put a crown on it, or at least shake your hand. At least those who know what you did. We've managed to keep most of the news about the… 'incident' under wraps. Only the ones who were there and a few others know what happened in detail. And, that is, to say know what happened… none of us really understand what we saw. Ben? What 'did' happen? Nobody could explain your actions or how you did it. Merrythought seemed to know something, but she was tight lipped. Where are you? I can't see you in the dark. Your voice sounds strange. Kind of high pitched and distant."

"I am not really in your room. I am in Nurmengard. I am a prisoner. They are going to kill me soon… that is if I don't die first."

Fenice jumped out of her bed and called up some light. A crow was sitting on the back of one of the chairs in her room. It was looking at her. It had been the one that spoke. It was speaking.

"I will tell you what I can, but I don't have long. I am dying because of the radiation trapped in my prison around the stone that generates the Wall. I don't think you can save me, but I have to get a message to Cuthbert and Galatea. I have solved the riddle for an object that I obtained that may help us make Grindelwald vulnerable. They will understand the solution and know what to do. This bird will help.

This bird can lead you through the Wall. That is the one thing I learned from Grindelwald that night. I pulled from his memory the thoughts in his mind that contained the path through the wall. It is dangerous and complicated. Tricky, you might say. Please tell them to be careful if they choose to use this information." Ben paused for a moment, and the bird seemed to snap out of a daze and glance around nervously at its surroundings.

Slowly, the bird returned to its trance and continued speaking. It was a bit less clear and somewhat garbled. "For now, I have to bid you farewell. My time is nearly done. If we meet again it will be beyond the veil. Keep yourself safe. Go find Cuthbert and Galatea and tell them this one word. Horcrux."


	24. Chapter 23: Nurmengard

Chapter 23 Nurmengard

The wizards had apparated out on the edge of the field in front of the chateau at Nurmengard. They carried between them a large sack that clearly appeared to contain a body. The package was sufficiently bound and carried along by magic so as to not be an excessive burden for them. It was, however quite clear that the something inside did not desire to be so contained, and was struggling against its bindings to get out.

The group of wizards maintaining the Nurmengard Wall Stone looked up and stared at the approaching parade. They had nervous looks on their faces. Grindelwald was down to inspect his great success of establishing an impenetrable barrier between himself and his foes. He was also eager to perform a new incantation that would permit the extension of the wall beyond the coast near Calais. He especially wanted this new capability since the recent setback virtually eliminated the chance to bring Britain under his sway… at least for the time being.

What he needed now, was some good news. He needed it to help him reestablish a firmer grip on his control of his core heartland. Now the wall was not just needed to veil his actions on the continent and keep people from fleeing to his enemies. It now helped keep an actively belligerent aggressor from being able to attack his positions directly.

Prior to the incident at Cambridge, he still had enough supporters within the Ministry of Magic to sway the administration. They had been convinced to remain passive yet guarded. Now they had to come to the shocked realization of exactly how vulnerable they had been, and how close Grindelwald had come to being able to defeat them outright.

The struggling wizards approaching the chateau dumped their package before Grindelwald and stepped back with their wands drawn and pointed at the burlap sack. With a word, the sack disappeared, revealing the bound and gagged Ben Adarwayne.

Grindelwald smiled. He lifted his wand and shouted "Crucio!"

Ben writhed and screamed through his gag. As Grindelwald stood over him, drinking in the sadistic thrill that he felt from the suffering radiating from his victim.

"I must say that the tables have turned." Grindelwald taunted as the spell faded and Ben lay breathing heavily, exhausted.

With a sneering, triumphant smile, Grindelwald leaned down until his face was very close to Ben's face. With a penetrating hiss and knife-like focus, Grindelwald breathed, "Show me what you know, pest."

The two of them appeared to struggle with one another mentally, until Grindelwald jerked back with a shocked inhale that instantly turned into a cough, as if something had gone down the wrong way.

As he recovered, the coughs turned into barks and curses at his underlings. "You! Brought! Me! A booby trap, you imbeciles. You should have checked him out before bringing him to me. We'll have to put him into storage until I can untangle the traps he's set." Grindelwald's face had turned a bright, pea green, and he appeared to choke momentarily. Using his wand, he made a flourish of arm-waves, apparently dispelling some unseen apparition that his motions seemed to indicate was trying to engulf him. As his frantic motions ceased and his color returned to normal, he continued. "Hopefully I don't damage him too much in the process. Nonetheless, it should be an interesting challenge to pry open this oyster. I still don't understand what happened on that night." The frustration that some knowledge eluded him was apparent in his tone, and quite tangible in his expression.

Grindelwald glanced around. He looked at the stone, and smiled. I'm not sure the fine accommodation in our dungeon will suffice for this one. The shield around the stone will hold him… as well as trap him in a bath of poisonous radiation.

With that, Ben attempted to sit up and, with a worried look on his face, he gazed at Grindelwald, then across at the stone. His captors, along with this new, expanded group dressed in fine robes and masked in apparent preparation for a ritual, raised their wands and Ben floated to a position within a few meters of the stone. The masked wizard attending the stone whispered a brief chant that raised the impenetrable barrier around the stone.

As Ben lay gazing around, recovering from his recent traumas and considering his current predicament, he felt a sense of dread that his failing prescience had finally given out and misled him to his demise. He turned away from the shield wall and gazed at the stone. A heavily banded pink gneiss. Its twin rested perched on the coast far to the west. Considering the fact that he was just thrown within a few meters of the object that was at the core of such a powerful manifestation as the wall, Ben knew that his captors were quite confident in its invulnerability. It was a rough, oval slab about three feet high with rounded edges. There was a slight hand-sized depression at the precise center of the top surface. That is where he had seen Grindelwald place his hand during the vision so many years ago when it seemed to divide into two identical stones the exact size and shape of the original.

Ben knew what sort of preparations and sacrifice had gone into carrying out the ritual that created this spell. He just didn't know how to break it. "This will take a pretty big hammer." He muttered.

A low chuckle came from behind him, beyond the shield. "Don't waste what may be your final effort and thought on such nonsense. My wall will stand for a thousand years." Grindelwald sang proudly. "And we will use it to force our enemies back until they have no more land to stand on."

As Ben still lay bound on the ground he shifted his body and head to see Grindelwald standing over him just beyond the veil of the shield and gloating. "On the other hand you've got nothing to lose because you've lost everything. You're dying right now. You'll be dead by morning. I just haven't decided which manner of your death would be most satisfying to me." Grindelwald stood silently, staring for a few more moments. "It is inevitable because if I don't release you from this prison, you will die of exposure in just a few hours. I am half inclined just to sit and watch. I must admit, however, that I have more important things to do… on the other hand… you apparently are quite talented, and I was impressed with your exhibition that other night."

Ben feigned surprise as he considered these words, but didn't let up any appearance of defeat.

"I'd still like to know how you managed your little teleportation trick back there in Cambridge. I could see differently about your fate if, perhaps, you would consider sharing. I doubt, however that I would be satisfied that it would have been worth sparing your life." Grindelwald's expression changed from sneering mockery to bitter frustration. "I unfortunately did not have the opportunity to stick around and investigate the residue of your activities."

This time, Ben tried to act a little hopeful at the prospect of surviving this day. He struggled to a sitting position with his hands still tied behind his back. "I'll trade ya. I'll tell you my secret if you tell me yours." He inwardly flinched as he realized he may have just reminded Grindelwald that he penetrated and stole some of his memories. "Hows about you help me understand this big chunk of gneiss behind me. It appears to be emanating quite a warm glow that I can't see. My whole body is tingling."

"That, my dear friend, is something about which you will have to remain ignorant." Grindelwald glared at Ben. "For now, you will have to be satisfied with the knowledge that there is nothing you could do to harm that stone. It will tear you in two trying to figure it out." Grindelwald winked and smiled.

Ben raised an eyebrow at that, and attempted to creep towards the shield wall. With his struggles, he flopped down and hit his head on the ground just short of the shield. It left him dazed as he tried to recover, attempting to reach toward Grindelwald. He made it apparent that he was trying to whisper something through the glowing veil. As Grindelwald bent down to gloat and listen to what was sure to be a wasted threat, his pendant slipped from his collar, dangling on its chain. The Deathly Hallows. Ben took note of this and the fact that it seemed to vibrate and glow, as if alive. Grindelwald noticed Ben staring at it and tried to tuck it back in his shirt… at the same time a burst of recognition hit Ben. It was too late. He heard Ben gasp, then rasp…"What have you done? Is that a… You've rent your soul. Your desperation has caused you to fall from wisdom." Ben decided to attempt to jostle Grindelwald's paranoid, frayed nerves. What would get him… "It's nice to see you are no longer rooted in one place, old man willow. You are certainly on the move, but you must know that it is you who are running out of time. I have all that I need, and I can touch you, even through this wall."

At that moment, Grindelwald suspected in his deep paranoia… although correctly… that Ben had somehow figured out one of his closest secrets. The secret of his pendant. How had he had the intuition to jump to that conclusion? In a state of unsteady shock, he put his hand down to support himself while he stumbled slightly, after straining to crouch in order to listen to Ben. His hand hit the grass. The grass in that spot erupted in a sharp, instantaneous 'snap' and Grindelwald jerked up, yelping in pain and stumbling into the shield wall. As one of his minions pulled him away from the shield and helped steady him, all could see that his clothing was singed and his face had a burn mark where it had touched the shield wall. Then he held his hand up, and there was a mouse trap clearly clamped around his fingers. A trail of blood dripped down his hand and forearm. "Get this off of me." He howled.

A crazed, desperate, hateful look seared across the barrier at Ben. His eyes darted from side to side as he searched for a reason for a mousetrap being placed in such an inopportune manner. Then he smiled at Ben and said "You don't scare me seer. If you are so gifted with the sight, you should see that I am the only one who can end the spell of the stones. You've just convinced me that you must die, and soon." Grindelwald turned to his minions and shouted. "Prepare the circle for the casting. Adarwayne will be our sacrifice. He has volunteered to lend his soul to our cause."

Ben stared worriedly through the glow of the veil and tried to focus and think carefully about what the relationship between the stones and a horcrux shaped like the Deathly Hallows could be. What would it make possible. Grindelwald obviously kept it close, but it could potentially be given or be present elsewhere. There could be two of him. It could be used as insurance against death. He could be in two places at once. Ben searched the memories he held that had belonged to Grindelwald. So many things he could see started to make sense. Ben certainly was aware that Grindelwald had committed numerous atrocities that he couldn't even imagine. This one must be key, though. He's just missing the last piece of the puzzle. The look on his face when he saw that Ben had come to some new realization was pure shock and fear. Ben needed to backpedal a little to avoid being killed too soon. He still had to figure out the connection and how to destroy the Wall Stones. He had to deflect the ire by pretending to know less than he figured and be on the wrong track.

"Have you found all the Hallows, Gellert? Is that it? Perhaps you are indestructible. Will you be master of death."

Grindelwald ignored Ben. He knew that Ben had figured out too much. He had to die. Whatever the secret to the events that transpired during their last encounter may be, it will have to remain an unknown to him. Adarwayne had to die. He marched to the edge of the field where preparations had been made around and within a stone circle. He didn't like having to rush things, but he had an opportunity to complete this chore and get rid of an enemy who was turning out to be a real dangerous wildcard. How could he have appeared from nowhere and suddenly be a threat to everything. Had Dumbledore been shielding Adarwayne? Did Dumbledore even know what Adarwayne knew? Was Adarwayne working alone? Who would he be working with? What other shadows are lurking just out of his sight. Paranoia was beginning to take control of him.

Grindelwald raised his wand and shouted a command. All of his conspiritors ran to the stone circle and arranged themselves in a well-rehearsed pattern.

Ben decided to take a different tack. With little heed for his own safety, he stood up, unfettered. He no longer felt the need to pretend to be bound. His wand was in his hand and he began to probe the stone. A shout from Grindelwald brought a surge of energy that knocked him unconscious, throwing Ben to the edge of the shield. When he came to, he was looking through the shield into a beady, black eye.


	25. Chapter 24: Two Dark Lords

Chapter 24

The smell of grass and dirt was strong, and the feeling of wet on his face was certainly blood trickling down his nose. A thin, glowing veil stood between him and the beady eye. "Where am I and why do I feel like I was hit in the face with a shovel? Then I must have landed on a hundred-pound rock on my back… or on a dull fence-post?" He mumbled at a bird as he tried to roll away from the dangerous glow. The black bird, to whom the beady eye belonged, just sat there and cocked its head, staring through the barrier, as if waiting for Ben to make some pronouncement.

As he began to recognize his surroundings, Ben began again to push himself away from the glowing shield. He slowly became aware of the heavy droning of a sonorous hum that seemed to rise and fall. With his eyes still a bit out of focus, he could recognize that the light level rose and fell along with the hum. Ben managed to struggle to sit up and finally began to remember where he was. With his back to the shield stone, and facing the crow, he realized that his time on Earth may very well be up. Unfortunately, he had never had much of a handle on his own fate when it came to visions of the future. He always thought he could catch glimpses of clues when he got glimpses of people close to him… but recently, nothing seemed certain. Perhaps the dearth of clear sight was the result of having less existence ahead of him from which to pull visions. From what he saw before him, though it was pretty clear he was soon to be a goner.

Was this how it worked? He wondered. Was his very existence in the future the source of his sight? He hadn't given that line of reasoning much thought since there was a time when he thought he could see distant possibilities that would surely be long after his demise… even were he to live to a hundred years. Lately, his visions came in spurts, with seemingly contradictory implications from day to day.

He thought that perhaps it had something to do with Grindelwald's wall. He could "see" nothing through the wall from the time of its creation so many years ago. Its growth had been similar to a blind spot that he sometimes experienced prior to the onset of an intense migraine headache. Color, flashes, but nothing beyond. It absolutely pained him to have to face into the void and trust his stolen memories from Grindelwald to pass through it in utter blindness. The throbbing hum that approached him and accompanied the pulsating light in his present surroundings was like an unpleasant accompaniment contributing to the headache that he had developed on that passage. The headache that won't go away.

Beyond the veil and beyond the bird was a line of masked wizards marching in a geometrical formation that he instantly recognized as part of a sacrifice needed for a powerful spell. The power that was building for the incantation made the whole procession glow visibly and pulsate with light along with the chant. The stone behind him strobed in response. The knife in the hand of the leader did not have any blood on it… yet. They were walking toward Ben. Ben just sat and stared. His nine lives were apparently up.

He realized that his hands had not been particularly responsive since regaining consciousness because they had been loosely tied. Someone must have prepared and bound his unconscious body after the powerful surge from the stone knocked him out. He had surely been thoroughly searched and relieved of his wand. He smiled ironically while he rubbed his head with his hands. He had been a bit hasty to act and reveal his wand. If he had had a future for which to file that note-to-self, he would certainly have done so.

Two wizards flanking the knife-bearer raised their wands and Ben's bindings tightened and he rose, floating in a prone position staring at the ground. A masked wizard guarding the shield a few feet away from the bird lifted his wand and the shield faded.

The bird walked into the circle as if it had been waiting for the shield to fall. It seemed to be on a mission, knowing what needed to be done as Ben watched its progress. The bird's progress was apparently not noticed by the marchers. The bird walked in the shadow cast by the guard, underneath Ben and toward the stone. Ben tried to not pay it obvious attention… not knowing what it was, and hoping not to draw attention to it that he might endanger its mission. As he lifted his head to see the progress of the approaching crowd, he saw that the footsteps ticking away the final moments of his life had just about run out. He took the chance to quickly crane his neck to see where the bird had gone. He had an intuition that the bird was not one of his adversaries' tools. The bird was underneath the edge of the wall stone. Ben could barely make out something at its feet that could be a small pouch tied with a white string. The bird then turned and seemed to wink at him before it flew off.

Strong hands gripped his arms and legs and dragged him to the top of the stone. From the center of the crowd, Grindelwald emerged and the knife-bearer handed him the gleaming blade. To Ben's surprise, instead of ending Ben's life, Grindelwald cut his own hand and let the blood drip upon the stone.

As if growing out of the stone, a small, ghostly luminescent humanoid figure appeared that was connecting Grindelwald to the stone. It was attached by one hand to Grindelwald's hand in which he held his triangular amulet that was a representation of the Deathly Hallows. The other hand appeared to be sunken into the stone beneath Ben. Ben could feel the stone vibrate. As he watched the ghastly figure, it began to resemble Grindelwald.

As he turned toward Ben lying on the stone, Grindelwald spoke for the first time. "I need your life to spark this body that can carry this part of my soul. You don't mind, do you? After all, your sacrifice will be for the greater good. Then there will be two of me… and none of you. You are out of time."

Ben tried to speak, but was unable to do so. Grindelwald smiled at him and lifted the knife.

The air around the procession began to turn thick and misty. Fog had been encroaching upon their wicked circle. A cloud seemed to appear and build around them and the air began to feel heavier with each breath. The witnesses crowded around the altar and many of them smiled as if anticipating the culmination of the ritual and the fulfillment of all their preparations. At this point, there were several hundred masked wizards gathering around and pressing in toward the stone within the circle.

The wizards began to continue their chant. Their first recitation of the spell ended in a muffled "glub." Just as he was about to sink his knife into Ben's heart, Grindelwald raised an eyebrow and looked up at his minions. The ones closest to him, standing around the stone, began putting their hands on their throats as if they were choking or suffocating. They started collapsing, with odd, pucker-like, bewildered expressions on their faces.

The air around them began to become more and more viscous. Visible beads of water formed around them and began falling upon the ground. The water rapidly accumulated to ankle, then knee deep, and kept rising.

Grindelwald screamed and flailed around him as his wizards began to fall by the dozen. "This is not supposed to happen in this ritual."

Then, there was a thunderous thud before him as a bluish trail of smoke and mist exploded down from the sky and impacted upon the stone.

A voice before and above Grindelwald gave a low chuckle and said "That's because I have usurped your entanglement of an incantation and am redirecting it to MY will." It said with an authority and force that made Grindelwald step back.

Above Ben, standing on the stone was Cuthbert Binns, who confidently kicked the knife from Grindelwald's hand. Binns stood straight and raised his arms, and all the people within several meters of the stone began to sprout fins and collapse into the pooling waters. A golden trident appeared in his hands and he commanded the fish to attack as the water level grew to over waist-deep. A great crackling explosion occurred above and behind him as he stepped off of the stone and onto the water and rode the wave as most of the fish and evil wizards were carried by the current away from the hilltop and stone.

Many of Grindelwald's minions began to recover their wits and move to attack this new threat. Grindelwald himself retrieved his knife from on top of the stone and threw it at Binns, but it sank into the side of a large carp that leaped up just at that moment. Grindelwald raised his wand and pressed his thumb to the center of his Deathly Hallows amulet, abandoning the ritual as the golem faded back into the stone. Within seconds, dozens of evil wizards began apparating, replenishing the numbers that had been stolen away by Binns' sorcery.

As soon as the new wizards gathered around Grindelwald and he recovered his composure, he said "Well, now it looks like we'll have two wizards to sacrifice." As if in response to this, another crackling explosion resulting in a precussional wave of heat buffeted the crowd, forcing several wizards to step back, off balance. Most managed to raise their hands to ward off the blast of heat.

At that moment, Grindelwald realized that he had made a grave mistake. He felt so secure behind his wall, that he had not taken proper precautions. As he gazed down at Binns, who was standing above the portion of the field that was now flooded with water and no longer had any visible humans, besides Binns, he realized that their whole plan was horribly vulnerable. Binns waved his trident and a wall of water rose up around him, protecting him from curses being flung by the surrounding attackers. Fish as big as men were leaping at wizards attempting to approach Binns, knocking them down and dragging them under the water, to either drown or join their school.

"Kill him!" Grindelwald shouted, and then he heard the roaring and the scream as the source of the wave of heat became apparent. A fiery meteor fell from the sky into the midst of the newly rallying wizards before the stone. It hit the ground with an explosion and a vision of a huge, winged angel of fire was at its center.

Several voices shouted "Phoenix!" and as he turned, it was just in time to see a score of his minions incinerated by the blast that erupted from the fiery wings of the apparition landing before the stone. As he stared, the avian vision became a woman standing amid the flames. At the wave of her wand, the wizards left standing near her became birds that proceeded to rise up and attack anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby. With the wave of her other hand, flames sputtered to life and erupted at the wizards in the opposite direction.

Grindelwald raised his wand to fend off the fire and an attack from a bird when he felt a stiff breeze buffet him and send him off balance. "Kill her!" He shouted.

"Don't you get tired of saying that?" A new voice next to him calmly addressed him with a dreaded familiarity. "Hello, Gellert. It looks like they left you to me. Now what is it you've been up to? You've been quite naughty. There's something about you… that's not… quite… whole. I may have just the thing for that."

He turned and faced Galatea Merrythought.


	26. Chapter 25 Save Yourself

Chapter 25 Save Yourself

"How many times did your mother die?" Ben's father asked him. He found himself in his father's apartment, sitting on the edge of the bed, while his father sat on the couch.

"Dad, Mom only died once. I'm sure that the death that you are talking about, that you thought you saw, was a dream. Unless you walked into someone else's room and witnessed some other woman pass away." Ben replied.

Ben's father rubbed his forehead with his hand. "I'm sure it was real. And it was not some other person." He gazed out the window at the bird feeder that was one of his few distractions since he could no longer make out the words on a page in order to read. "It was real to me. I don't know… It seemed real… I came back from lunch and there on the floor of this room was your mother. She was surrounded by a group of people counting down her last breaths and heartbeats." He sat there silently as Ben prepared to try to explain.

"Dad, she died weeks ago. She died in this bed. I was here. We were with her when she died." Ben began, pointing and trying, incredulously, to explain. His father stood up and waved his hand to silence him. He went to the dresser and pulled out a small, black pouch. He handed the pouch to Ben.

"What is this?" Ben asked.

"That is the pouch they handed me that contained the things that your mother was wearing when she died there on the floor. And I know it wasn't the first time she died."

Ben took the pouch and explained to his father one more time… "They gave us a pouch after Mom died and it contained her watch and her wedding rings." As his father returned to his seat and fell back onto the couch, Ben opened the bag and out tumbled a ring, a bracelet, and a tremendous, clear jewel in a setting suspended as a pendant upon a chain. Ben stared, astounded for a few moments trying to figure out what he was seeing. "I've never seen these things before. These didn't belong to Mom. Where would they have come from? This doesn't make any sense?" He looked up at his father.

With a faint, weak, whisper, his father tried to respond with strength he couldn't quite muster. "No. No. No! What doesn't make any sense is a world where you can wave your hand and make miracles happen. Don't tell me what makes sense or not. Long ago I had to accept that." He rasped. "I've only gotten a glimpse of your world. Now try to ask me which one is real. As I'm stuck here waiting to die I know I will never, now, have that opportunity. Which one would I want if I had to choose. If I could change things… would I?" The older man's head drooped into his hands and he started shaking.

Several moments later, he threw his head back and then turned with a bewildered stare at his son. The next words from his father made even less sense. "I see a man who has been split in two and there are three of you who stand around him." His father's voice came as a faint, raspy whisper

"Three of us?"

"No. not three people, but three yous."

Ben stared at his father, who now seemed to be in a trance. Clearly something he had seen in other people, but never his father, and never in a someone that did not possess some sort of magical ability. He carefully moved closer so as to not disturb whatever was happening. "Dad, I'm not sure if yous is a word… unless it's three sheep. There is just one of me unless there is something you are not telling me." Ben replied, trying to keep the information flowing while thinking of appropriate questions in order to entice a meaningful response. As he got closer and looked into his father's eyes, he saw another, different face that seemed to appear as a vision overlaying his father's visage. Something instead of his father was speaking back to him. His father's gaze was infinite.

"The poison from the neighboring lands… the… is it a farm? A factory? A mine? The waste seeps through the air and permeates the atmosphere. It fills me… poisons me. Is it near or far, or both. It seems to rise and descend on all hope and promise… and it may come from across the water. It comes from the other continent, rises and seeps into my room. It climbs up my walls and rises across and coats my ceiling and drips down onto my body. It drips down onto my head and fills my ears and mouth and throat. It fills my eyes and stops my vision. I don't know why they are allowed to do that. It shouldn't be allowed. People are dying. You've got to stop it. I see three of you around a man split in two. There is fire, there is storm, there is violence. If you stop it… if you cure this disease and solve this problem, then you will be confronted with more. It will be as if, after being blind, you can suddenly open your eyes and see, clearly as the light of day, you will see more misery, death, and pain than you had previously imagined. More than most can bear."

After a bit of a pause, Ben crouched down and gently continued asking questions. He knew more answers would not come until the proper question was asked. "What disease?" He paused between each question to give the apparition an opportunity to respond. "What poison? How could there be three of me? How could somebody be split in two? Is there blood? Are there others? Who cut the man in half? In what way is he split?" Ben knew he was on the verge of some revelation, but couldn't quite translate the message he was receiving through this re-enactment. This is a replay of one of his last visits with his father. There was certainly some prophecy afoot and he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it.

The couch in the apartment upon which his father sat transformed into a bed in a hospital. Ben was standing now, transformed along with the vision, solemnly anticipating his father's death. "Dad, tell me. What is going on? What are those things you were saying. What is dripping down from the ceiling?" He asked as he gazed sorrowfully down at his father, then turned his head upward toward the white ceiling. There was nothing there. Nothing dripping down. It was now abundantly clear to him that it was not particularly normal for a couch to transform into a hospital bed… as well as being suddenly in a different setting.

Ben realized the prophecy coming from his father… as well as the entire scene he found himself acting out was not all that it appeared. Parts of this had happened before. Parts of it were new. Dreams follow winding paths and change like this. He couldn't quite remember where he had been before this vision started. He wondered how many more times he may have to relive the deaths of his parents. He turned to his father with two final questions… without recalling or understanding how his current situation may have elicited this vision. "Dad, did I fail? Am I dead?"

The scene was suddenly different. it was still the hospital bed, but It was vivid and sharp. He found his father staring him in the eye with a clarity that hadn't happened in previous dreams and certainly didn't happen in reality during his passing. His father was not coherent when he died so many years ago. The words that came from him in this dream were firm and clear. "When mother came back after she died that other time, she appeared in a pillar of flame. She was a phoenix. She was reborn, and lived with me for a few more precious days. She told me I had to explain something to you. She said you were not like her. She had been reborn from the ashes, many times, except for after this final coming. This final time when she would die for the very last time. She said you were not like her and you could die. You would die. You will die. She said that you would not have another chance. She said that you would die unless you could change things. She said you will walk headlong to your own death. You can't let that happen. She said friends will come in your need, but you have to save yourself." Ben remembered that when his father really died, all he could make out of his father's futile struggle to speak… all he heard was the last, weak, whispered breath… "…save yourself."

He stood up and the vision shifted. He was now standing in a grassy field perched near a mountain top. As he began to understand he was most definitely in the middle of a powerful, significant dream and vision, his father transformed into a crow sitting on a great stone slab. The death bed had become the stone slab. The stone slab, he was finally recalling, that was so recently the site of his impending murder at the hands of Grindelwald. Had that rite been successful? Had the knife taken his life?

The crow was lecturing about the danger and the trickiness of creating and accommodating a paradox and the price that must be paid. "Have I just paid the price?" He asked the crow. Ben didn't realize that crows could talk. Instead of a response, it spread one wing and held it in a crooked manner so that it was pointing toward the little leather sac that was tucked neatly beneath the edge of the stone. The crow became a raven. The raven kept repeating "You were supposed to die. You should be dead. You should be dead." Ben wondered how many people he knew would know the difference between a crow and a raven. The raven became the old woman in the woods.

The old woman held up her phial and said, "Now we can fill this phial. It's all been about this moment. You need to make it worth the price. We are at the crux." He watched as she removed the cap and his entire field of vision began to warp and be sucked into the phial.

Then, he stood before a house elf standing on the wall stone in a field beneath a mountain and sky that had no color. The sky was gray. The grass was gray. The stone the house elf stood upon was the only exception. It pulsated and writhed in living bands of pink, gray, black, and white.

The house elf held her arms crossed and the expression on her face was one of anger. "We told you your actions would doom you and your cause. There will be repercussions. The fallout and chain reaction has already spread beyond this incident. Your transgressions will implode into nothingness and take part of our world with it. Your actions will force us to…"

"No. I have stabilized the vortex." Ben interrupted, looking surprised at the elf's clear understanding of the danger.

"That's impossible. The lengths to which one would have to sacrifice would take more than a lifetime of striving. And even that is hypothetical. Planning for a future far beyond the immediate several lifetimes. Humans don't plan beyond their short vision." The elf said matter-of-factly.

Ben took a deep breath and gazed beyond the house elf. He looked up, then back into the house elf's eyes. "Then you should see for yourself. I found a way. Take my thoughts." He stepped up to the edge of the stone directly before the house elf. He bent his head forward and the elf reached forward and drew a tendril of memory as if she pulled a strand of hair. The elf gazed at the tendril, then let it form an image and instantaneously understood.

Her expression flashed to one of amazement. "What have you done?" She stood stunned for several moments before she spoke again. There was a tear in her eye.

"And what's even more astonishing is that no one will ever know or understand your sacrifice. You have our pity." With that word, she reached out and handed Ben the small leather sac that had been deposited by the crow. She then faded from view as he heard her fading final message. "Of course you realize this is all a dream."

Ben smiled and said, "Yes, but that doesn't mean it isn't real." He muttered in a whispered, trailing response.

With that he sat up and found himself in the middle of chaos.

"What in the world?" Ben blurted. Right before his eyes, Galatea Merrythought faced Grindelwald. Several wizards were backing away as fast as they could. Certainly nobody wanted to be caught in the fallout from the duel that was imminent. Two wizards apparated near the pair and immediately turned to flee once they recognized their peril. As they turned toward a fiery figure that they assumed would give them aid and be supporting them, they dissolved into birds that immediately attacked other wizards. "Fenice." Ben said with a surprised chuckle. "This must still be a dream."

The bottom of the field had become a lake. He could make out Cuthbert Binns. Binns was hurrying his way toward the stone after stepping from the flooded area while being chased by a score of angry wizards. Shields were forming around all of them, making their possible escape… tricky to say the least.

As he gazed at the vision of Galatea, he lamented the fact that he could never tell her the true extent of his sacrifice. She was certainly his truest and most trustworthy friend. She knew about the time turner that he had made. But she couldn't know how it was only one small part of what he had given up in order to try to save two worlds… two worlds for which he did not, at the moment, appear to be able to assure himself, with any confidence, of either's endurance. He sat and watched. He felt the cloth and the weight of the sac in his hand, which reminded him… He opened the sac and pulled out his wand, ring, and the time turner. Then he thought about his vision. Dark wizards were appearing by the dozen, forcing his friends back toward his position. Their escape was firmly cut off. None of them could survive the barrage of reinforcements that were showing up and compounding their helplessness. Would their sacrifice be worth it? He thought about his father's final words as he spoke them aloud, holding the means of escape in his hand, unheard in the midst of chaos… "Save yourself."


	27. Chapter 26: One Plus One Minus One

Chapter 26 One Plus One Minus One

To outward appearances, the battle between Merrythought and Grindelwald did not precipitate as would have been anticipated by fans of fireworks and flourish. They appeared to be enthralled by each other's stare. The other wizards looking on that did not flee to a safer distance, did indeed pay a price for their curiosity or desire to aid their master. Two masked wizards attempted to attack Merrythought. One with magic and the other physically. Without any sort of acknowledgement by Merrythought or Grindelwald, they were each sliced in half, as if by an invisible sword. The frightening event along with the resulting scene of the bodies grotesquely arranged around the two great wizards was deterrent enough for the other heretofore, but now, not quite so eager toadies.

Why do they always surround themselves with such toadies, Merrythought pondered as she proceeded to dissect her adversary. Layer after layer, defenses and enhancements emerged and had to be defused, diffused, banished, and harmlessly tripped. If he had had another moment, he may have had time enough to mount a defense. While he was distracted by the other two, though, she slipped in and rendered him fairly harmless. So much for the great wizard Grindelwald.

She smiled an ironic smirk, both outwardly and inwardly, at the common comments by influential wizards and the press, in their wisdom, about how only Dumbledore could match Grindelwald. Such nonsense. She knows the truth. This world would never accept that a woman could best them all. Of course, few wizards do not consider themselves proficient and capable of matching up well with the best.

As it turns out in almost every endeavor, most people are poor judges of the extent of their knowledge and notoriously overestimate their understanding and capabilities. It goes to show that the people with the least depth of knowledge have the poorest understanding of how little they know about a topic. Hence, the overestimation. Merrythought's greatest strength is the recognition of her limits and the limits of others. She manages a dominant position by researching and knowing and having done and experienced the most.

This immersion in research is necessary because the wizards she hunts tend be extraordinarily wily. They usually manage to unwittingly transform themselves by subduing and embodying the very power with which they attempt to imbue themselves. In so doing, they often become caricatures of their ritual and distracted by the coincidences of linguistics and associations, which in turn, become their affectations. Their tells. A weakness that Merrythought commonly uses to undermine her foes' disguises and machinations.

Grindelwald does have a few of those particular disadvantages, but they are not the clue to his most elusive secrets, at least not in this case. He is certainly capable and knowledgeable, but was caught off guard and had made a terrible mistake to trust in the safety behind his wall. He most certainly underestimated his vulnerability. Who would have ever have predicted Merrythought and her odd crew. For them to pop up in the middle of his stronghold in the midst of a powerful tryst, was unthinkable. He, of course, because of his arrogance and dismissive posture towards people he does not regard as equals, had no idea of the extent of Merrythought's prowess… but then again… neither did most others.

Grindelwald's talent was mainly with his charming tongue and excellent understanding of theory, but that doesn't explain all of it. He must also have a bit of a touch of the sight… but there's something that boosts his talent and allows him to dominate any magical contest. What that could be… Merrythought was determined to find out.

Like fingers slipping underneath the skin, ripping and rending, loosening the skin from the meat. Snapping and crackling flashes glittered around their heads, caused by dispelling protections that become flicked like clips popping off of a tautly stretched sheet yanked off the line. She was disassembling his network of layers of camouflage and misdirection. The whole process would seem like a carefully planned dissection, like disassembling an article of clothing by tearing and snipping the loose strings of over-stretched seams. The seams formed the assemblage holding the whole of the network of spells together like a patchwork of pieces of fabric in a well-made, intricately assembled and layered garment. Grindelwald's years of wrapping himself in subterfuge had turned him into Merrythought's favorite kind of puzzle. "You are like an onion. Let's see if there is anything at the center of these laminations." She thought to herself, but also into Grindelwald's head.

As she zeroed in on total domination, however, something strange began to happen.

There were suddenly two struggling against one. There was a little fight left in this one as well as a somewhat expected surprise. Another soul, another consciousness was erupting forth and beginning to put up resistance. It was not within his body, but against it. She could sense that it was an object hanging from a chain just under his shirt.

"Aha! I'm beginning to see your dirty little secret Gellert." Merrythought spoke out loud for the first time in several minutes. "You can believe that two of you can best me. You can, of course believe anything you like, but I'll still win this one. In this case, one plus one equals one. One plus one minus one will be less than one. And that's for good." With that, she began by uttering a powerful word that abolished all sense of time and reality in the valley of Nurmengard. The landscape seemed to swirl into a maelstrom with her at its center.

She raised her hand and all light and color drained from the warped landscape in an implosion of light. It seemed all light had collapsed into her raised hand. The phial from the old woman appeared in her raised hand and she started to chant a few words. Words she had begun chanting years ago, when Ben had first given her the phial. The words held power for those with the proper focus. This object had been imbued with power over many years prior to passing into Ben's hands. Merrythought uncovered the root of its secret and continued the process. That frail little glass bottle possessed terrible power that had been focused for one purpose, and was created for this moment.

The shifting landscape left all witnesses with a strong feeling of vertigo. As the scene stabilized, a vision of a flat grassland replaced the scene around the two powerful wizards. There was a great gathering on the grassland. Two separate, opposing crowds prepared for two separate journeys in opposite directions. They were gathered at the edge of an area that appeared to have, until recently, been inhabited. They were at the edge of a devastated, wasted, empty city. The mud walls of the houses were dry and crumbling. The insides and outsides had been stripped of all that could be carried in small bundles. At the moment, they were all gathered around a circle at the edge of the town and facing inward.

The surrounding land was brown and dry. All was dead, except the people and whatever animals they had left that would travel with them. The soon-to-be former inhabitants of this land had gathered all they could strap on their backs and horses and were about to abandon those houses. Their homes. Their home.

Suddenly, an elderly woman stepped out of a fog that embraced the crowd and walked up to the edge of the circle and gazed towards Merrythought and Grindelwald, who themselves had seemed to fade into reality, born out of the mists of time.

The old woman had just finished walking a circuit around the center-most ring of people that consisted of the eldest members of the gathering. These eldest had just participated in and witnessed a conjuring of transparent apparitions that appeared to them as spirits or ghosts at the opposite side of the circle. These spirits were Merrythought and Grindelwald. They had been conjured to be present and act in the trial for a terrible crime.

Even as they appeared, one of the apparitions seemed to sprout into two forms, a man and a mud golem. The dry dust in the circle seemed to rise up, forming the body of the golem that rose to stand beside Grindelwald, as his twin. Bared by the powerful magic afoot, the Horcrux of Grindelwald that had been bound into the charm he wore around his neck, was forced to be revealed and embodied in that form. Ironically, it was what he had just attempted prior to the arrival of Binns only moments before.

The form of the golem was filled with the torn portion of his soul. The Grindelwald that was two, now appeared to the onlookers as two shades helplessly following the shade of Merrythought to the center of their circle. They were following a path toward the focus of the final great gathering of this place. They moved as automaton actors playing their parts. The vision of the plain was now solid and Merrythought and the two Grindelwalds were diffuse as spirits. The circle of the eldest was the innermost of several circles that were repeated because it was within a circle formed by a crowd of people, a circle formed by people mixed with people on horses, which, in turn, was surrounded by the two opposing caravans, spiraling outward in either direction, preparing to move out. The caravans would soon contain the gathered people who were the population that had inhabited the nearby waste of a city.

Merrythought and the two Grindelwalds faced each other in the center. Beyond the circles, the scene broadened out to form an impressively vast area of the flat plains of the steppes of central Eurasia. South of the river that millennia hence would be called the river Don.

The people of the vision simply knew it as "The Water." The Water was dry. The land was dry. Dust blew in the air and the tangible signs and intangible weight of failure and defeat and loss permeated the crowd. What was once a fertile grassland that supported a civilization was now dry, and this failure and defeat drew the people together in one final act. An act that would not quite be adequate to compensate them for their utter humiliation.

This scene that required these ghostly shades was more than four thousand years prior. The people sitting around the circle surrendered their bitter gazes toward the center at the ghosts they had conjured. The bitterness was not for the ghosts, but for the emptiness of all the deaths that had necessitated this final sacrifice. The deaths that had been caused by a man who wanted power.

Near the periphery of the circle, at opposite poles, the shades of Ben Adarwayne and Cuthbert Binns appeared and entered just into the edge of the circle. They stopped and stood silently just at the opposite edges from each other, also gazing at the figures in the center. Then they bowed their heads.

The people had come together in their misery at a moment in which every moment was critical in their desperate attempt to survive. Survival by means of their plan, or plans, was not certain, but they certainly could not survive here. They had decided to abandon their homeland. Generations before, their ancestors had come from the south. Legends were rooted in their culture about a great disaster that drove them forth from their homeland that was now beyond a great desert that could no longer be traversed.

During the wet years, the bounty was sufficient that their people flourished and multiplied. Now, a drought of many years had devoured their stocks of grain, and with no water for their crops and horses and cattle, they were starting to die.

This community had not just suffered the continuing failure of crops and starvation, but the stress of that failure had precipitated strife. Murder, deceit, jealousy, hate. A once prosperous and generous people had descended to the level of the quasi-historical, mythological enemies they had fled in the distant past.

The elderly members of the inner circle were not only the wise elders that counseled the community and made their laws, but they were there to die. They could not make the journey to which the rest were committed. They would stay and perish.

The bitter fruit of the strife not only resulted in abandoning their homes and leaving a waste behind them, but the result of the sundering of the people into two factions whose differences had grown into bitter, angry contempt. The bitterness would eventually mellow to regret and forgetfulness and myth over the generations, but for now there could be no compromise. Some were convinced that the promised land was toward the setting sun, where the strange men lived. They would go there and try to make a new life. The others were convinced that the way toward the rising sun, that leads through mountain and desert, would take them to a bountiful new homeland. Those that went one way would never again see their families and friends that chose to go the other.

What fed the strife was greed. Someone that had been trusted by many had taken advantage of his position in order to rise in power within the clans. He excelled in fomenting polarization within matters that should have been easy compromises. With that polarization, he could humiliate his adversaries and thus gain in stature through their humiliation. He surrounded himself with a band of followers that would echo and amplify his mistruths and falsehoods. This poisonous cauldron of hate continued to fill until it overflowed in murder.

Leaders that would stand up to him were maligned, dehumanized, and eventually found dead. Enough of the people were cowed or convinced that it was fate, and furthermore, justice was circumvented by simply distracting the tribe with increasingly outrageous acts of subterfuge. With none able to organize to fight the injustice, eventually all that could be done was to just stand by and watch the meager, dwindling results of their work robbed from them as they starved. Perhaps their livelihoods were doomed by the drought, but the strife hastened the decline in their quality of life to a meteoric crash and collapse. Many deaths occurred unnecessarily because of the confrontations and the sudden loss of coordination and capability.

In the end, it seemed that they had divided naturally into two groups based on what would someday be acknowledged as petty differences. These two groups had each determined that they loathed the other and would go in opposite directions.

Then the people found out. They found out that their two opposing leaders were one in the same. One man had managed to split his soul, allowing that fragment of himself to possess the body of another man. In so doing, he could continue to dominate both populations and would eventually enslave and rule over both of the weakened groups. These two men that were one conspired to hide and hoard the wealth and the food and the water of both groups while the least among them suffered and wasted away. At this late hour, when the people finally realized the double deception, their anger rose enough to unite them to bring the people together to rid themselves of this parasite.

They found out. They were here for a trial. They found out, but there was no reconciliation between the two groups. Many stubborn heads that now knew of the deception still outwardly denied it. The others were no longer foolish enough to believe that the deceived were really deceived, but it did not suffice to conquer their differences. Even in uncovering the truth, the uncouth continued to play the deception of daring the just citizens to accuse them of being ignorant or of being liars.

These supposedly-deceived had convinced themselves they were acting morally, because of their superiority, and they were willing accomplices to the original crime. They could taste the power to vanquish the undesirable. Even without their leader, they still knowingly perpetuated the lies like a disease. The lies had a life of their own. The liars no longer had any regrets and no longer had the capacity for empathy. They were complicit. But for now they stood silently and watched in their newly found disadvantage of transparency. They were now angry that their leader was unmasked but they were not willing to fight for him any more out of fear for their own positions and families.

Because of the inability to simply vanquish such mistruths, the deceit and bitterness had taken too deep a root and all were now determined to carry through with the sundering of their people. They had turned away from each other. Some would go toward the dawn, some would go toward the dusk.

The elderly woman dressed in antelope skins that stood at the edge of the circle now moved forward and led two men into the circle. The two men were tied together with their hands bound. She was covered with blood. In one hand she was holding the rope that led the two prisoners. In the other hand, she held the limp body of a headless goose. The shadowy observers noticed the trail of blood that the goose was leaving as it bled out. The pattern formed a tracery around the circle, and this was the completion of her circuit that was part of the conjuring that had brought the spirits here. She had walked the right way around, chanting and leading the damned.

The woman stopped and faced the shades in the center of the circle, where the head of the goose still lay. The old woman began reciting the crimes of her thralls in a language that has not been spoken for four thousand years. At the end of her list of crimes, she turned toward the shade of Ben.

"You are the future. What say you?"

Ben firmly replied. "I am the maker. The laws have been made. The law is clear."

She turned to Binns and said. "You are the past. What say you?"

Binns firmly replied. "I am the judge and I name your guilt. You broke the laws and cursed this land. You are thus cursed and thus you must give your life." He said addressing the two men.

She turned back to Merrythought and said. "You are the now. What say you?"

Merrythought replied. "I say not. I have listened. Now I act."

The woman held up a stone-tipped wooden spear. Four men stepped up to the two bound men. Two of these men each took one of the bound men and threw him to the ground. They ripped the shirt of one of the men, exposing a tattoo over his heart that was the sign of possession and held him as he struggled. The circle of elders mumbled and the people surrounding the circle that could see, gasped. Merrythought grasped the spear and together, the two women plunged the spear into the center of the tattoo and through the man's heart. The man's body lifted off the ground and with a supernatural surge of power, transformed into a grey, amorphous form that lunged toward the old woman before falling motionless before her feet. Merrythought held forth the phial, removed the cap, and a mist lifted, revealing the man. The mist was sucked into the glass vessel and was destroyed.

The old woman turned to the surviving man. "That evil thing you created is gone, but so is our beloved, whom you had purged and destroyed. Now your time has come. As the final part of your damnation, you shall remain forever, nameless."

The two women again grasped the spear and thrust it into the second, still living man. He stiffened before falling limp, without event. Merrythought backed away from the two dead men.

The old woman removed the spear and faced the shade of Merrythought. She leaned on the spear as a staff between herself and Merrythought. "We thank you for your aid. May this help you endure the evil you strive to vanquish. Our people are now sundered and both groups leave, leaderless. We who must stay pray that they will both flourish, but we cannot. We stay here to die because we cannot go. Our land and our bodies are wasted. We are done with this. The power we brought forth today may go forward and grow through our people, and over the years, they may call upon it to help vanquish other such evils. Unfortunately, I foresee that these evils will grow as well. May my people choose their leaders and use their power wisely." She finished her speech and collapsed into the circle with the other elderly figures.

With a flurry of hollering, the two caravans of people and horses began to lurch forward and set forth on their journeys, never to see one another again. Merrythought walked over and bowed to the old woman. As the old woman passed Merrythought the spear, the scene faded and changed to a forest outside Nurmengard. The forest where Ben woke to find the old woman who gave him the phial all those years ago.

This scene was different, however, because a different group of people were present and there was a fire near the center with an iron sticking out of it. The five shades that had appeared to the people on the plain appeared to a new group of elderly men and women. Ben and Binns stood near the edges of a circle. These people were dressed in traditional Alpine, Germanic garb. They sat swaying and gazing at the center where the shade of Merrythought stood alongside the two shades of Grindelwald. The old woman that Ben had met on the previous visit stepped into the circle with a dead fowl dangling from her hand. She dropped the limp and bloody, headless fowl as she stood and faced Merrythought. Ben realized that this was still in the past, but perhaps at a time close to his previous visit.

The old woman turned toward Ben and said. "You are the future. What say you?"

Ben heard himself firmly reply. "I am the maker. The laws have been made. The law is clear."

She turned to Binns and said. "You are the past. What say you?"

Binns firmly replied. "I am the judge and I name your guilt. You broke the laws and cursed this land. You are thus cursed and thus you must pay." He said addressing the two men, one of which was the golem of Grindelwald's horcrux.

She turned back to Merrythought and said. "You are the present. What say you?"

Merrythought replied. "I say not. I have listened, Now I act."

At that, the elderly members of the circle crawled forward to confront their tormentor and his golem. Their families had died or fled and only they were left. They were the useless husks of their once flourishing community that had been decimated by Grindelwald's corruption and obfuscation. They were all that was left after the murder of their families as punishment for standing up to him. They had this one chance for vengeance and justice.

The old men and women grabbed the golem of Grindelwald and revealed the pendant of the Deathly Hallows on its chest. Merrythought held forth the stone spear and the old woman grasped the handle along with her, and the two of them plunged the spear through the pendant and into the chest of the golem, which exploded in a many tentacled beast attempting to grasp and destroy all around it.

Merrythought held up the phial and the beast was sucked into the phial and destroyed. At that moment, the old woman stepped up to Grindelwald with a red hot iron and thrust it into his face and seared a brand onto his cheek. And with that act, the vision ended.

As swiftly as it had begun, their vision cleared and solidified to reveal they were back in the field before Nurmengard and the circle of elderly men and women had disappeared. All was suddenly silent for a moment. The silence ended as it was pierced by the bloodcurdling scream "NO!" and the subsequent hysterical laughter of Grindelwald as he sat up and looked upon the pile of dirt that had recently been his golem. As he returned to himself and shook free of the paralysis that had been holding him, he looked around at the devastation that had been rendered upon the core of his empire. He turned to the three, now standing over him at the stone circle at Nurmengard and with a chuckled rasp, whispered, "You fools." They could see the still smoking, blackened burn on his face in the shape of a German script letter H marking his cheek as he struggled to regain his consciousness and composure.

The elder wand that had been laying in the mud nearby suddenly perceived its master and that he was in danger. It jumped to life and came to its master's sudden, apparent need. Fire poured out of the wand as it sprung into his hand and forced the three wizards, now four, being joined by Fenice, back into the stone circle. Merrythought was on her guard and took notice of the sudden attack and barely managed to fend it off. Alas, she now suddenly understood something about Grindelwald's power that had been hidden from her mind. She regretted even more that the vision ended too soon to end Grindelwald's life as well.

Grindelwald's face gleamed with an ironic smile. "Now there is no way to control the advance of the wall. You have doomed your entire island." He said, half crazed. He stood tall and took one step toward the stone circle. He spread his arms as he continued to explain. "It will surge into and across the land, destroying all in its path. The only way to control it was by means of the same soul being at both stones at once. With my golem, I was the only one capable of being at both steering stones."

At that moment, a wizard appeared between the stone circle and Grindelwald. Without looking around, he immediately spotted Grindelwald and bowed his head without realizing, in his excitement, that he had apparated in the midst of a disaster. "Master, I have great news. We have captured Adarwayne. We have him imprisoned at the stone in Le Sodit." As he raised his head and looked at his master, he did not see the expression he had expected. The expression that he did see was one of horrified disbelief and was directed over his shoulder. He turned, and quite to his surprise, saw Ben Adarwayne amongst his friends, standing in a defensive formation in the midst of the circle before the Nurmengard stone.

Ben perked up, quite surprised. "Really? All you had to do was be at both stones at once?" He pondered this for a few seconds with a quizzical smile on his face. Perhaps his father's last words and his mother's warning suddenly started to make sense. He looked at his watch, then stepped away from his friends and over to the stone. He placed his hand on the low spot in its surface and firmly stated… "Quinque Modicum!"

The stone exploded into a soft and furry burst of a thousand rabbits suddenly finding themselves in too small a place and trying to get away from that one place. They scurried away in all directions across the mayhem that had already occurred in the valley. Birds were attacking Grindelwald and what was left of his forces from all sides. Some of the larger raptors were distracted by the rabbits. In the place of the wall stone, an empty space was all that was left on a bare patch of dirt surrounded by grass. As Grindelwald watched in disbelief, Ben held up his time turner with a mischievous smile, and as the disk spun and whirred, he faded from view, leaving his friends to fend for themselves. Reinforcements were arriving to block any escape.


	28. Chapter 27: The Barrow Wight

Chapter 27 The Barrow Wight

The guard standing outside Ben's hemispherical prison around the wall stone at Le Sodit was pacing back and forth, waving his arms crazily and speaking loudly into the empty air around him. Most muggles would have assumed he was insane, but it was part of a hurried and impatient incantation for communicating across distances. He was frantically trying to contact his colleagues to get help to disarm his prisoner. He didn't think that Ben could escape from the prison, but they shouldn't take any chances since their master does not deal with bad news and failure very forgivingly.

This should be a matter with which he and another wizard or two would be able to deal without much bother. This was something they had done many times before. Just part of the normal routine, beating someone senseless and relieving them of their belongings. This guy was just as harmless as all the others. Harmless, that is, even though he had somehow managed to successfully conceal his wand and a time-piece from the five experienced wizard thugs that had captured and searched him. Another possibility was that he was somehow able to conjure these things, without having his wand. The scary thing about magic, regardless, was that it was… well… unpredictable.

It seemed prudent to disarm him and give a more thorough search as soon as possible. Perhaps they should also teach him a lesson after disarming him. It was always quite enjoyable to have a chance to crack a few ribs, that is, depending upon in what kind of shape Grindelwald wants him. The guard could probably manage the prisoner by himself, but he figured it would be prudent to wait for assistance.

Ben stood before the stone, watching his pocket watch that was held on a chain. The guard stared with a mildly perturbed expression, continuing to ponder the fact that he could swear that Ben had been thoroughly searched with and without magic. He was certain that Adarwayne should not have had possession of any such items after they had finished. As the guard watched, Ben placed his hand in the low spot on the stone. He could vaguely hear Ben mutter "Exite! clauseruntque ostium. Nunquam revertantur. Auferte oculos intorsit risus cavis."

What happened next, he would have never predicted… not in four thousand years. To his complete surprise, the guard stared in disbelief at a sudden explosion of badgers, bursting and running from where the wall stone had been, just moments before. It didn't register to him right away that the badgers ran through the line between him and his prisoner that marked the boundary where there had so recently been an impenetrable magical shield. The shield that was the barrier that had been confining the movements of his prisoner.

Then, a mist-like form lifted from the place where the stone had rested, seemed to gaze down at the guard, and as it reached out, a gentle breeze dissipated the form until it faded as it drifted helplessly away. After a few moments, the stone, mist, and badgers were gone and there was just an empty patch of dirt in the grass. Ben stood there and raised his gaze to look seaward toward the roaring wall composed of swirling water and storm clouds that had been forming a barrier between the continent and the west for a number of years.

The constant roar of the enormous barrier wall extending out to sea that had been being generated and controlled by the stone became suddenly silent for several seconds. The immediacy of the silence was an abrupt, unforeseen shock to the ears that had grown so accustomed to the constant, deafening presence of its rumbling. As if in slow motion, the entire wall began collapsing, like a curtain falling off the rod.

Silently, at first, the bottom part of the wall collapsed and churned into the ocean, creating waves that erupted outward and propagated toward the shore, swamping the beach and base of the cliffs. The sound, then began reaching the two standing on the cliff and started as a gentle sound of a falling rain, but mounted suddenly into a deafening roar as the devastation of the collapse rapidly mounted. The cacophony of the resulting blast formed a concussion of wind that unexpectedly blew the guard back several meters, until he sat up on the grass several long steps from where he had recently been standing.

For some reason, the wind did not seem to affect Adarwayne. As the guard sat up, he met Adarwayne's gaze as Ben turned to consider his jailor. He plainly saw that Adarwayne wore a very ironic, almost apologetic smile on his face and shrugged his shoulders, almost as if to say… "whoops, what have I done?" along with a bit of a sarcastic gleam in his eye. He lifted up his hand, showing a third thing he should not have had. It looked like a circle with a spinning disk or coin. Then, Ben Adarwayne disappeared.

As the guard sat there, alone, and stared out into the open sea beyond where the wall had, until so recently stood, he remarked to himself how beautiful the sunset was. Then he began considering where he could go to avoid answering some very difficult questions to Grindelwald, his master. Maybe it was time for a change in career, and a change in masters. Perhaps west, toward that sunset, would be for the best. He lifted his wand and disapparated.


	29. Chapter 28 The First Thing On The List

Chapter 28 The first thing on the list

Ben and bird stood still and tall for several hours 'pon a day.

Watching, waiting standing firm, who did they watch you'd say?

Turning 'round and gazing back like mirror it did seem

No one knew but those stealthy two that Ben did watch himself today.

Strange, it felt to stand before oneself in dire danger.

Listening to the hissing breaths of a beaten man too tired for anger.

Forced to watch and forced to act to keep up the appearance.

Of being someone else instead of hidden hero or avenger.

Although he witnessed it before from on that other side.

At one point had to beat himself to prove himself so's not to turn the tide.

Could things still turn out differently if he were to be found out?

He did not know, he could not tell so stoically he must abide.

With mask on face the ruse he kept in order to accomplish,

A task so futile one would think his brain had turned to mush.

although he knew the outcome up to a point… he had to stand.

After that point he would not know because his powers were still crushed

The wall had blocked his powers for so long since it was built.

Its success he felt as his own failure and thus a sense of guilt.

Once it was down the rest would see the horrors of the Reich.

His only hope was to keep on this folly of one great windmill tilt.

Before this trial he'd used a spell he'd stolen from his foe.

To cross the wall and travel far and wide to whence he'd go.

He'd thought the folks beyond the wall subdued by spell and ignorance.

So he hoped that that would change if he explained and thus truth sow.

To his surprise, 'twas him was fooled and the populace had lied.

They'd pretend to preach their ignorance and challenge in their pride.

The challenge was for all who saw to call them dumb or liars.

The challenge worked because we won't admit to falling for such conniving tide.

So in the end there seemed no hope to rise to some success.

Not even hope for some to stand when veil's removed and truth confess'd.

For those who've lied, to see the truth may yield no more compassion.

This realization hit home to Ben and left his soul a putrid mess.

But at that point of revelation, sight momentarily returned.

For just a moment, lightning struck and in his brain it burned.

In order for his foe to slip and reveal how to defeat him

His desperate hope turned paradox, of his own death he learned.

He hatched a plan to lose himself and use his friends in vain.

He must inflict himself and leave this life for such slim chance to gain.

Implications he could not understand but thus he was committed

It would loose foe's power and aid his friends, but lose his soul and self in pain.

When in the midst of hiding, acting part in his foe's thunder.

His future-self looked on his past, helpless, bound, no chance to wonder

When Binns arrived 'twas not too late, but in the confusion, bare bodkin plunged home,

He plunged the knife into his past and split his soul asunder.

The split of soul a horcrux made, and this great sin left all unfree.

His murdered past, his killer present, and plus the horcrux that made the three.

In flux of time the three were flung and mixed and none could tell,

Which one was which and who was who and which can I call me.

The paradox sent one to die in loop of time repeating

The other two revived and healed, one ignorant, one grieving.

A glimpse he got while stepping back of that dreadful looping fate.

He must move on and trust that choice… but which life was he leading.

No time for tears once his task's success showed clear evidence.

Foe's machinations thus subverted and diverted thence.

Though compromised, as reinforcements came, in confidence Grindel let slip.

The way one could control the wall and stand in governance.

As he stood and watched his past-self trek in triumph back in time,

Ben wondered how his soul would fare if his efforts were a crime.

But in the end the price he paid, its dreadful tax ne'er ceased.

I'll never know for sure, am I a horcrux, or somehow… am I me.

Ben looked up from considering the terrible choice he had made. What was worse… the fact that he had just managed to murder his past self, or the fact that a part of him… maybe two parts of him… were lost in what could be a never ending loop. One having to die at his own hand. The other having to commit the crime. What's more, he may just be a fragment of himself. His only reassurance was that he remembered it all. At least, he thought he did. But then again… maybe he didn't.

If there were a book written about time travel, there would certainly be a chapter listing things not to do. Ben was sure that in that chapter, the first thing on the list would be a warning not to kill your past self.

Rather than dwell upon what might be left back in that loop and to what extent it might be aware of its circumstance, he had to move on. He had to try to focus on the fact that there would no longer be a barrier hiding Grindelwald and his machinations. Twice now he had been able to feel his awareness of his vision returning just before using the time turner to go back to complete the parts of his plan. Soon, wizards with the ability to see would see the unthinkable. He had to focus on the fact that he and his friends had destroyed Grindelwald's horcrux and weakened him, although there was still the matter of his sheer strength and power.

His original hope that the wizards here would rise up to right the wrongs and fight against the injustice were dashed when he realized they were largely complicit. Cowed into submission, the efforts of the weak and poor to maintain some sense of dignity were co-opted to support their oppressors in their defeat, as if it were a denial of their own powerlessness. Always clinging to the illusion that their powerful would reward them and raise them up. That never happens.

Ben stood silently observing, wearing a mask, still guarding the boundary of his former prison. Somehow, nobody had noticed him and he had remained unharmed and unaffected by the powerful energies that exploded around him. It had been a delicate balancing act. The battle between Merrythought and Grindelwald had heated up and the energies were beginning to warp reality around them. A shimmering mirage of heat seemed to radiate from them.

During the subsequent several moments, Grindelwald's wand had come to life and forced Merrythought back into the circle where her friends had retreated. Grindelwald screamed like a wounded animal, then paused. He stood for a moment in silence, just beginning to realize what had just happened and the gravity of his situation. These three invaders, plus one he had thought was dead had just complicated his plans. He knew in this strong-hold with his reinforcements closing in, their mission had created a certain amount of chaos, but he now had the upper hand. What could have caused them to embark on such a foolish, futile effort. He also now had the opportunity to create a new horcrux and complete his task. Aah well, it will get done one way or another. With his four guests soon to be surrounded, helpless, and impotent, he would teach them a lesson. So, thus feeling relieved and slightly over-exuberant, he bragged and revealed the danger to which they had potentially exposed their pathetic island. And what's more, perhaps feeling downright giddy from having survived a potentially fatal encounter, he then made his crazed and fateful error. He revealed one of the secrets to his great barrier. He instantaneously realized the hastiness and poor judgment of his mistake.

As he watched his stone disappear, and then subsequently the culprit, who should not have been able to from that location… Grindelwald just stood with a dumb-founded expression on his face and muttered… "What did he do? What just happened? Where did he go?"

From off to the right at the edge of the circle that had once surrounded the now absent wall stone, came one word. "Salix!" Grindelwald felt the curse hit him solidly and he felt a familiar sensation of his body starting to change. "Here I am." Came the response.

Then suddenly, right before his eyes, appeared one of his masked guards stepping into his now, constricted field of vision. The guard was the one who he had thought was Valentine Weirich. Weirich pulled off his mask and revealed himself to be none other than Ben Adarwayne.

"I can't believe you fell for that a second time. These masks your people wear are just ridiculous." Adarwayne said mockingly as he stepped back to stand with his friends.

As he did so, Grindelwald managed to lift his wand with the elongating fingers of his stiffening hand. He managed to raise the shield wall of the prison that had been dormant since this whole mess started. He thus trapped the four wizards. In his furious, uncontrollable anger, his wand, seemingly of its own volition, released a potent burst of dragon fire at the four insolent invaders. This potent spell struck the prison shield, which turned the blast back at him, forcing him to fend it off. Perhaps not a very wise thing to conjure when one is potentially made of wood. He had inadvertently shielded his prisoners from danger.

Within the shield, Merrythought watched the developments happening beyond their prison. A look of sudden realization dawned upon her face as she finally recognized that there was something special about that wand. She glanced at Ben and a knowing smile revealed that he recognized the truth as well. Grindelwald was master of the Elder Wand. This was a very evil bit of news. As she continued to ponder their situation, she was also wondering how they had managed to so thoroughly subvert the energies of the stone to divert them to their own purpose. She had anticipated a difficult fight with a low degree of certainty as to the success of their endeavor. Once they showed up, however, things seemed to just fall into place. Her expression began to change from one of surprised recognition to a raised eyebrow of curiosity at Ben.

As if Ben followed her train of thought, he suddenly perked up as if shaken from a daydream. He turned his gaze away from Merrythought in order to avoid the awkward questions that were about to arise. He turned to address all three before him. "I want to thank you all for coming, my friends." He pulled a very large four-handled beer stein out of the folds of his coat and held it out.

"This is no time for a drink, Ben." Binns blurted out in exhausted irony.

"This is a port key." Ben replied.

They each reached out a hand and grasped one of the handles of the beer stein. As the world started to spin around them, Ben could be heard through the barrier by Grindelwald saying one last thing. "It is, however, full of beer." Grindelwald's woody, incredulous expression was frozen in place, staring helplessly at his prisoners as they disappeared. As he watched and listened, Ben's voice faded and was cut off.

Now, Grindelwald was finally surrounded by his soldiers. His form slowly becoming the writhing and jerking monstrosity that appeared to be a visibly growing willow tree that was actively sprouting out of a man-shaped body. The semi-amorphous form howled, unable to form words through its stiffening lips.


	30. Chapter 29: Not So Merry Thought

Not So Merry Thought

The world began to come back into focus from the swirling maelstrom of travelling by port-key. The setting was a somewhat familiar stone circle in Wales. As the setting congealed, the four stood still holding the beer stein, looking exhausted and spent.

Binns let go of the stein and sat directly down on the grass. "Someone should now explain to me what just happened." He exclaimed.

Before he had finished that statement, Merrythought had thrown the beer stein aside into the grass and leaped across the gap, knocking Ben to the ground. In the midst of her leap she had drawn her wand and grabbed Ben's collar, pinning him to the ground. "Before you disappear again, dear friend, you are going to explain a few things." Merrythought's tone was serious and angry. The threat was clear that she would not allow him to escape. Her wand stuck into his neck and drew blood. Her glare alone would have pinned anyone to the spot.

Ben sputtered and managed to whisper in a hoarse response. "Galatea, for an old lady, you can sure throw a fella around. What are you… 105?" He managed a weak smile, even while realizing any struggle would result in more discomfort, or even puncture his jugular vein.

"Don't give me that. I believe your little toy and all the back-tracking you've done during the last few years may qualify you as the most elderly person present. If that's how it works. You must have to pay your dues at some point. Yes, I know a little something about the obligations to which you've committed yourself. Exactly how many of you were there at one time back there?" Galatea demanded with her voice becoming more angry with every word.

"Three. Plus a horcrux." Ben rasped.

Merrythought's eyes widened and her free hand immediately produced the glass phial that had already destroyed two horcruxes. "Do I already have another reason to use this little object? It has proven quite potent." She held it menacingly in his face.

"I don't know." He replied.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Ben attempted to take a deep breath before responding. "I'm not sure if I'm the horcrux. I don't know which was destroyed when..."

"What was destroyed? When did this horcrux come about?" Merrythought interrupted impatiently.

Fenice put her hand on Merrythought's shoulder. "Galatea, I think you need to give us all a chance to rest and give Ben the benefit of the doubt."

Merrythought's eyes didn't waver from Ben as she replied to Fenice's plea. "Not a chance. We're getting answers _now_. We have sat by patiently and given Ben an inordinate amount of latitude and freedom to act as a wild card. Was it worth it? I don't know. He needs to explain that now, or it's all coming to an end.

Ben's body shuddered as he attempted to take a breath. He gulped as he closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts before responding. "There was a murder in the middle of that ritual. I was the murderer and I was the victim. That's why you could so thoroughly undermine their attempted rite. The impossibility created a paradox that released all of the accumulated energies to our use. That's why Cuthbert managed to turn the whole meadow into a pond, then you managed to transport us to the trial. Quite unexpected on Grindelwald's behalf. At the moment of my death, however, the violent act created a horcrux and the three of us, my live, dead, and undead self, were enmeshed in the paradox and mixed. One of me did indeed die. I don't know which. I don't know which one I am. It's all a blur." At that moment, Ben realized that his friends wouldn't realize the other accomplishment of their act. The wall was destroyed. But before Ben could gather his wits enough to explain, Merrythought decided to act.

"You killed yourself? Clearly you're mistaken. Who or what am I talking to…" She held the phial up before his face with a bitter, disappointed look on her face. She flipped the cap off of the phial.


	31. Chapter 30 The Price of Knowing

The Price of Knowing

Fenice lunged at the ancient witch crouching over Ben and grabbed the hand holding the phial. After the effort the three had made and the trials through which they had been in order to save their friend, she wasn't about to stand by and see him murdered by Merrythought's sudden, unexplainable turn. What could have been going through Merrythought's mind to suddenly make her transform from savior to threat.

Fenice pointed her wand at Merrythought's temple. "I just did things I never thought possible in order to protect the three of you while you managed… whatever it was back there. Before I allow you to kill the man we just rescued, I would think you could let me in on your secrets." She lowered her wand slightly and held it to Merrythought's neck.

This caused Merrythought to look up and finally give Fenice her full attention. The look on her face as she glanced up was one of anger, but as she focused, it softened to be one of sadness and regret. "Yes, of course Fenice. I suppose you deserve to know why I would act so savagely. Perhaps an explanation is due, seeing that you have a wand at my throat… and you gave so much to defend us. Don't think I was unaware of your effort. I am quite impressed with your strength, skill, and valiant capabilities. You have quite reassured me that perhaps there is hope in the fight ahead." She stared silently at Fenice for several moments before continuing.

Fenice noticed that as they spoke, the color was draining from the landscape around them and seemed to swirl into the still open phial. It was then that she saw the strange stone-tipped spear lying in the grass next to Merrythought.

For the first time since they had appeared at this new location, Binns chimed in. "Galatea, do what you must, but only if you are absolutely certain. I'm afraid that we have not succeeded. Grindelwald is still alive and can just re-establish his strength and create a new horcrux. We may or may not have saved Ben Adarwayne. Whatever it was that Ben intended, it nearly got us all killed and our forces cannot cross the wall en masse like we three did. That was a tricky and dangerous dance." As he said those last few words, it dawned on him how easily they seemed to have returned to Wales.

At that comment, although he appeared to be about to be finished off by Merrythought, Ben smiled with a mischievous little gleam. "Um, excuse me, but…"

"Silence! Until we find out what you are." Merrythought cut him off. She turned back to Fenice and said plainly and clearly. "I realize that you are at a bit of a loss right now, and may not fully understand the implications of what I am about to say, but I will try to explain. For starters, this may not be the Ben you or we know. It may be a horcrux, and we need to know for sure. If it is a horcrux, we must destroy it, even if it appears to be sympathetic with our hopes."

"You are still talking in riddles and gibberish. What is a horcrux? I don't remember you mentioning that in any class I had with you. I delivered Ben's message expecting an explanation, but you chose to keep me in the dark."

Merrythought sighed with an increasingly exhausted and defeated slump to her shoulders and her head bowed as she momentarily closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. As she looked back up, she tried to keep a simultaneous air of confidence, strength, and patience as she explained. "A horcrux is very rare and dangerous piece of the darkest magic. The existence and understanding of such things are guarded by only a few of the most knowledgable of wizards. We do not share such information with any but those whose judgement we trust absolutely. It is an evil method by which a wizard may tear off a piece of his or her own soul and conceal it within an object or person. For whatever reasons a wizard might carry out such an atrocity… they seem to be numerous. Such an awful act is apparently much more versatile than even I had once thought. Just today, I have learned of three new uses for which I was previously unaware." Merrythought took a deep breath and looked straight at Fenice before continuing. "Any horcrux must be made through a violent, intentional act of murder. And imagine doing such a thing purposefully, in order to then, purposefully rend your own life's soul."

Fenice glanced back and forth from Merrythought to Ben to Merrythought. She still held her wand to Merrythought's throat and spoke in a commanding, impatient voice. "So, what does this have to do with him. If anyone was killed back there, it was in an effort of rescue him or in our own self-defense. That was entirely justifiable as far as I can see. Quite a few of Grindelwald's wizards fell. I know for a fact that those present were all guilty of horrible crimes." Fenice curtailed her anger somewhat and continued in a tone that contained a bit more of a quality of bemused curiosity. "I am, I must say, rather impressed, although somewhat confused, as to how Ben pulled his switcheroo and became our savior… with a port-key in his pocket."

Merrythought took another deep breath realizing there was too much to explain. She spent a moment formulating the best and quickest way to make Fenice understand. She could not permit the possibility of enabling a horcrux to survive to masquerade as Ben. "Ben has a little toy, of which you have now seen twice. It is a new bit of magic. He will not explain to me how he managed to create it. He has disappeared from our lives and is doing who-knows-what with it… and that makes me and a number of others in the know, very, very nervous. He refers to it as a time turner. Its possessor may use it to go back in time. Very dangerous. Very chaotic. Like him." Merrythought paused briefly before continuing. "As you are quite aware, he is not the fool that he has portrayed to the rest of the world. Now Grindelwald knows that as well. Combining his talent of foresight with his little toy puts a lot of power into one hand that should not be entrusted to any single person. Although he may have done good, we still don't know what he has accomplished. We're not sure if his intentions are pure… or if his reasoning is tainted… we need to have oversight." Merrythought turned back to look down at Ben.

"Now, we have your shenanigans for this day to deal with. You jumped through time at least twice with three of you overlapping at one time. You did the unimaginable and killed yourself in the ritual, and in so doing, created a horcrux. Making four of you existing at once. This is a tangled and inconceivably monstrous knot. Not all made it through that knot. What has survived? We need to find out. What was accomplished? We need to find out. Where do your commitments lie…? I think I know, but even if you are you, we have to be sure." She glanced at Binns and got a nod of reassurance from him. She turned her head back towards Fenice.

Merrythought lifted her hand and Fenice flew backwards ten feet and lay motionless in the grass. With the phial still in one hand lifted above Ben's head, Merrythought grabbed the spear with the other and lifted it above Ben's chest. "This will destroy a horcrux and I will know you. You cannot lie to me with this ancient tool of justice. It is incorrupt. Your last thoughts will be known to me." As she stood over Ben, she readied to plunge the spear into his chest.

Merrythought continued to speak loudly and clearly. She knew that Fenice, although incapacitated, was still aware and able to hear her. She also spoke for the benefit of Binns. "As we started our attack at Nurmengard, I think we witnessed the first Ben in his time travels. The one that rescued us I think was the third. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us or to Grindelwald, the third killed his former self in the confusion, creating the horcrux and thus a time paradox. Whatever came out of that complex explosion of magics is what we are about to find out. Whatever survived, turned that stone into a bunch of bunnies and then went back in time to do something else. None of which we, as yet, understand. We cannot risk not knowing. We cannot risk trusting what might be a horcrux. We cannot risk letting Ben get away from us again without knowing what he knows about his escapades, and we cannot trust anyone to wield such power."

Binns stepped up and with a hand on Merrythought's shoulder, he commanded. "I am the past."

Merrythought continued the recitation. "I am the present."

Ben looked up into her eyes and said, "I am the future."

Merrythought plunged the spear through Ben's chest and into his heart.


	32. Chapter 31 I Didn't

I Didn't

Merrythought found herself standing at the edge of a deep ocean. She gazed outward into the distance at the horizon. There was no land, no feature, no cloud, no wave. She peered downward into the depths. Her feet were immersed in the water that rose to her calf. Before her was a precipice like a cliff edge that extended downward into unseen depths and extended to her left and right as far as she could see. She knew that if she fell forward, she would lose herself in the depths of the soul she violated. If she stepped back, she would fail in her commitment and perish.

She knew the charge of carrying out this endeavor, could very well lead to her death, but she was tired of the stalemate in the war. It should have led to her death, and the deaths of her three friends as well. She had regretted the loss, but had no more hope. Eventually their enemies would move forward and they might not survive the next battle. Eventually, they would lose. The foreboding of the inevitable failure had driven her to this suicide mission. She didn't tell Fenice and Cuthbert that she had resigned herself to not surviving this mission. She also knew that in not telling them, she had condemned them to failure as well. She was finding it difficult to reconcile these facts.

Her current state of anger and desperation was the product of not being able to comprehend how they had survived… along with the fact that they were so close to killing Grindelwald… and did not. At the moment, she knew that it was through the sheer will of Ben Adarwayne that they had succeeded in getting into that position, but it was also his will that made the decision to not kill Grindelwald. Why?

Merrythought raised her hand, and an amorphous shade rose from the depths of the water before her. A face that writhed and changed formed at the top of the shade. "Speak!" she commanded.

It was less of a voice that communicated than a slowly encroaching awareness of a great many things. As the shade approached, it formed a silvery, ghostly vision of Ben Adarwayne that stood above the murky depths. It reached out its hand toward her brow, and she suddenly knew.

Merrythought now stood before her friend and _saw_ her friend, Ben. She saw him, perhaps for the first time. She thought that unfortunately it was likely to be the last time, as well. She had not seen the person she had thought she had known in a long while. She observed the same sense of failure and hopelessness that had riddled her psyche. She watched his memories and his thoughts and she gradually realized she could sense his feelings as well as the growing awareness that she was reliving his recent tasks.

She saw a hopeless quest unfold before her. Once Ben had crossed the wall, he had searched for the remnants of the resistance that they had imagined must have existed. He found it, not gone, but not present. He found denial. He found regret, but within the wizarding community that had survived, he did not find any flame to fan that would fight to end the hell that loomed before him. In almost all his encounters, the crimes that were so obviously being carried out were denied, and the denier would simultaneously attempt to justify the crime. The hypocrisy was clear and plain before him, but there was no recourse.

Ben tried to fight and free the ones he saw being slaughtered, but he was found out. He was hunted. The only thing that saved him dozens of times was his time turner. The chase rendered his efforts ineffective. When he had finally decided to give up on his efforts, he returned to the wood near Nurmengard, where, at last, and seemingly near his end, he received his first compellingly undeniable premonition that he had received in many years. After that, he walked with a final sense of relief toward his death.

Merrythought understood. She understood that this was no horcrux, but this was the man that threw his life, and theirs into the fire without much hope.

Merrythought could see, with amazement that the wall was gone, that the way was open, that the enemy was vulnerable, that the fight with Grindelwald was a part of a greater struggle. She could see why Grindelwald had to live. He still had a part to play. It wasn't weakness that willed Ben to spare him. That knowledge did not assuage her futile anger after this exhausting trial.

As Merrythought returned to her thoughts in her own body, in the stone circle in Wales, she looked down at the limp body with the spear stuck into its chest. She looked at her hand, holding the spear. She lifted it out of his chest and there was no wound. She thrust it back down again, hitting the ground through his chest, before pulling it back out with no blemish appearing where it penetrated.

"It looks like you're not a horcrux after all." she said as she let a tired but relieved smile creep to the corners of her mouth. As she threw the spear aside, and as she walked toward the edge of the circle, she said, "The spear will not kill you. I could not say that you are innocent, but your acts were selfless and in your sacrifice appears to have been noted."

Ben opened one eye and exhaled. "Did you have to go for that additional thrust? You realize I've been fatally stabbed three times now, in one day." His other eye opened and he sat up, drawing his knees toward his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs. As he took in the quiet scene with the sun glittering down through the trees on the grass and the old stones around him, he looked up at Merrythought. "How did you know it wouldn't kill me?"

Merrythought replied, almost with a disappointed tinge to her voice. "I didn't."


	33. Chapter 32: The Old Forest

The Old Forest

Ben sat and pondered Merrythought's response for several seconds. The breeze in the green grass through the trees seemed to brush across his face as if it carried away his pain and the sunlight glittered through the leaves, the shimmering thus breaking up his outline. The scene did not betray the trials that had just been completed.

Ben's thoughts turned to the idea that perhaps, although the achievement of destroying the wall was a great victory, the price paid along the way had ravaged his soul. Those sacrifices had left him less able to choose his own fate, and empty of the assurance of whether what he had done was right. He felt that he was now diminished and the future would simply hold more of the same. "Even in victory, I am diminished. I'm not sure what is left of my self." He mumbled just below the hearing of the others. Perhaps now he could leave the long series of defeats behind him to get some rest while others could carry on.

He turned his head toward Merrythought and responded to her blunt revelation. "Well, if that don't beat all. You know, if I were in the same situation, perhaps I would have done the same for you." As he inhaled, he fell backwards onto the grass, gazing up through the leaves to the blue sky.

"Yes," Merrythought followed quickly at the end of his words. "You would have done the same and, as I can see now from our recent communion, you have perhaps done worse. I, however, have no more time for apologies or pity. We've got to get off our arses and take advantage of our new opening and the weakness of the enemy." She stepped towards Ben and indicated for Fenice and Binns to approach. "We have to make it clear and move fast in order to take advantage of our new position. Since you don't work in ways that make the effects obvious to all the parties involved, please, help me explain to the others what just happened. Cuthbert and Fenice are still unaware of your efforts what has so recently transpired. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt for us all to hear it in its entirety from your lips."

Unbeknownst to Ben, as Merrythought spoke, she very subtly and stealthily wove a web of spells around Ben and herself. A web that would tie them together and prevent him from performing his usual escape act. This would pin him in place and allow her and her allies to finally harness this chaotic wild card.

Ben closed his eyes as Fenice and Binns approached. When they stood over him, he began a twisted and confusing story of desperation. As he unraveled the story, however, they began to understand. He started by explaining his voyage through the desolation of the enemy. He went on to his revelation and the planning for this recent escapade. He explained, to their total surprise, that the wall was gone and how it had been managed along with their unbeknownst participation. He told them how he'd managed to exist as a hunted beast through months of misery and hunger. He told them of his deception and sacrifice and how he had thought he was sending them all to their deaths.

Most importantly, he revealed to them that the reason there was no fight against Grindelwald's forces on the continent was because of a devastating blow that occurred just as soon as the wall was in place to sufficiently blind his enemies. Once Grindelwald was sure enough of his advantage, he simply had all the opposing wizards killed outright. Families and all. There was no resistance because the resistance was dead. Even before they began to directly torment the scapegoat groups that the purists spent so much effort demonizing, they simply committed an atrocity that resulted in the removal of all obstacles. They killed those that appeared to be their own kind, but differed in their moral outlook.

Those initial murders of wizards that protested were so successful because those that would stand to protect the derided minorities could not have conceived their one-time friends could commit such miserable acts. Those that stood against the tide were very vocal and very brave. They stood before their brothers and demanded that they stop their insane hatred. They stood, and they died. The commitment of Grindelwald's forces was complete and they were organized and followed orders. The first to die were not the downtrodden minority groups that were so vilified by the purists. The first to die were those very prominent wizards who stood, and could never imagine that their neighbors would simply point their wands and kill.

As Ben spoke, Merrythought's machinations to ensnare him were becoming more complex and effective. She was relieved that he was distracted by his efforts to relate the tale to Fenice and Binns. She knew she had him.

Ben finished his explanation by reiterating and emphasizing to the small group that the onslaught of terror began with the murder of those who Grindelwald perceived as presenting the most danger to his power. What is more is that there is no chance of resolution through argument with those who are left because they are not simply deceived followers. They are complicit and they are aware of their deceit. They justify it through flawed argument, but they know they are lying. They share some glee at parroting the flawed and twisted talking points supplied through propaganda. The propaganda is not meant to deceive, it is a mechanism for dispersing instructions. He made it clear that in his travails, he had tried to explain and reason with the wizards he had met over months and months of cautious approaches. Each time he was disappointed, and a few times he barely survived as he was time and time again exposed.

Ben finished his tale by explaining that they should not be complacent and to be sure to guard against being overcome by such callous deception. As he finished his explanation and could see that they understood the implications, he began to rise.

As Ben tried to stand, Merrythought's ensnarement became visible as a web of enchantments that forced Ben back to his prior, seated position. He looked up at Merrythought and smiled. "Galatea, I think you've been up to something here."

Merrythought smiled back at him and said calmly, "Ben, you know we can't allow you to simply walk away again. You need to stay and help us. Please!" The last word was more of a command than plea.

"Galatea," Ben continued. "Let me first tell you that I cannot help any more. I am not able to do more. I have done what is needed. There is now an opening and an array of futures that can bring us out of the insanity. I, however, am not capable of leading you down that path any more." He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath before continuing. "But, of course you have to realize that you can't hold me."

Merrythought raised her wand and warned. "Sit still, Ben. There's no way for you to slip away this time. Please just accept that you are going to stay and help us understand the way forward."

"I've done what I can." Ben replied. "You have to carry through on your own. My help will no longer be fruitful. It is up to you and others. Besides, I've already died thrice today. Perhaps I am immortal and may now sit and watch the shifting of the tides. Perhaps I can sit and no longer be bound to obligations that are impossible to live up to." He chuckled lightly as he stood and all of Merrythoughts charms and spells evaporated.

"You see, Galatea, I'm not actually the right Ben… or that is, I am Ben, but just a bit out of phase with you. I believe my past self, who, by the way is the right Ben, has sufficiently negated your efforts and I've explained as much as I can. So, thus, I will take leave of you while the other me, who is standing by, resets and replays the scene and acts out his role. Good bye."

Merrythought and the others stood bewildered as the space between them was suddenly empty. There was no visible spell to counter… no trail to follow. Ben was simply no longer present. They looked at one another and discussed how best to proceed. Haste and action before they could rest. Merrythought did feel relieved in that perhaps Ben would finally find his rest. He deserved it, but she would deny it if she thought it would help in their efforts. And she thought it would.

Ben knew otherwise. Where he was going, he knew he would be in a place where none of it would matter.

Far to the southwest, he stepped out of the Underground, from the Picadilly Line near the southeastern corner of Hyde Park. He walked along Knightsbridge toward, then through the stone columns marking the entrance to the park. He crossed Carriage Drive and seemed to wander nonchalantly as he approached the Huntress Fountain. He winked at the huntress, who nodded back as she continued to guard the entrance to the verdure that seemed to un-naturally grow up around him as he walked. As he continued toward the Serpentine Lake, the landscape began to change and the trees closed in, becoming a thick, lush, old forest with trees that appeared centuries old. The lake transformed into a small stream lined with tall, thick willows. The developed pathways seemed to slowly disappear, then merge into a dirt path following along the streamside. Greenery closed in like a tunnel beneath the boughs of the ancient trees.

He was humming a simple tune as he stepped out into a clearing with a small farm house and smoke twisting from the chimney pot. Perhaps here, the ugliness of the wars would no longer be able to touch him. Here, in the middle of it all but nowhere to be found. He had given all he could in the time he had been allowed… and the time he had taken.


	34. Chapter 33: The Wheel

Chapter 33 The Wheel

As the months dragged by, the war shifted to the continent, but continued. Dumbledore sat in his office trying to help manage the latest crisis. Some ground seemed to have been gained since the fall of the wall, but the future still appeared bleak. Ben's absence was felt, but Dumbledore hoped that he must be out there somewhere, doing what he could. He wished Ben would come back. It may be tricky, considering that many colleagues, as well as enemies, were now aware that he had been responsible for the deaths of so many people… regardless of the fact that they were dark wizards working for the enemy. Perhaps it was better that he acted independently, although Dumbledore was not quite comfortable with the ethics of acting in such a chaotic fashion with no check on the decisions that Ben had made and would make. Some of his victims had not been proven guilty of crimes in the eyes of the Ministry. To some he would be a hero. To others he would be someone they could never trust, or wanted dead. They had to be careful to not reveal the impact he had had on the war effort. Because his methods were so dangerous and effective, they couldn't risk allowing their enemies to understand how it was all accomplished. Ironically, even Dumbledore didn't understand how it had all been accomplished. Ben would have to remain a hero known only to the few that were currently privy to that information.

With the future being so uncertain, Dumbledore still felt that they still needed Ben's help. Years ago, when Ben first came to him, he thought Ben was a delusional fanatic. Now that he was gone, perhaps Dumbledore thought he may have been the most sane one of all. Of course now there was nobody with which to discuss all the philosophical issues they had wrestled with, but what's more, he hated the idea of trying to find someone to fill the position in divination. The headmaster had put him in charge of that search committee… on top of everything else. And what's more, he found himself having to cover some of the divination classes himself. How frustrating!

As he sat there pondering, he became distracted by the feeling of not being alone. He began searching his office. As he passed his desk, he noticed a large, bulging envelope with his name written in hasty lettering. He hadn't remembered it being there previously. Before handling the package, he went to his bar to refill his glass of scotch. He opened the package, reached in and to his surprise, held up the device that Ben had created. The device that he had seen in Ben's hand on that evening at Cambridge so many years ago. "Is this what you were after? Something that could create… what did you say…" He paused. "more possibilities?"

Dumbledore reached back into the envelope and pulled out a folded sheet of paper that had a note written on it.

 _Dear Albus,_

 _If I were to tell you we succeded, it would not mean that the road ahead was no longer on the edge of a knife and fraught with negative possible outcomes. I will help if I can, while I can, but I am no longer part of your reality. I can't go back and I can't stand still. My time in your world is nearly up. Take this device. I've done with it what I may. I no longer need it. It is now your turn to put it to good use, but not necessarily by yourself. When you do use it, however, I'm sure you will use it wisely, and even more importantly, you will know to whom you should give it when the time comes. I place it in good hands, and you will do so as well. It will come in useful many times. The best and brightest will not fail you. All the best._

 _Ben_

 _P.S. I've thought long and hard about this, but have finally come to this Riddle – You should kill him, but I cannot._

Dumbledore was somewhat reassured that Ben was still alive, but troubled at the hint that he may not be for long. He never knew how to interpret the meaning of his words. Literal or not… they were always confusing. He studied the device and the letter, and pondered the message with its ending riddle. "In all these years, I have never come to totally understand that dry sense of humor."

He picked up the device and, with his wand, pointed to the small mechanism he held in his open palm, he whispered, "Revelio. Show me your secret."


	35. Chapter 34: The Fringe

Chapter 34 The Fringe

Down in Hyde Park in London, a small boy walked up to an old homeless man sleeping on a bench. "Hey Tom, I've got a penny. Can you show me a magic trick?"

Magical Tom sat up, revealing his weathered, scarred face, waved a hand that wore a large white- and yellow-gold ruby ring, and said, "Why of course, young man. Let's see your penny."

He smiled as he sat up from pondering the message that had been sent from his youngest self during the ritual so many years ago. It wasn't so much the words and topics of the message that struck him… but the sense of optimism that he had nurtured so many years ago when he had started this journey… that it now, upon reflection, resurrected in him. During the depths of his inner and outer struggles, he had felt that he was tasked with saving the world, but in so doing, he would lose himself. After living his life of two separate worlds, he thought he had found himself having to abandon one life at the expense of holding the other one together. Now he realized that his struggles were more personal and he had more selfish aims. he was actually striving to save two worlds so he could live on the fringes of both. Now I can get back to the important things, he thought… with satisfaction.

The End (epilogue will follow)


	36. Chapter 35 Epilogue

Epilogue

Many years later, Ben stood on the street on Tottenham Court Road, which was crowded with pub-crawlers and people just out for a night on the town. The shops that lined the street had mostly closed their doors for the night. It was late in the evening and only the pubs and a few cafés and coffee shops had lights in their windows.

Ben was dressed in oil-stained and dirt-covered attire that was a bit eccentric, but seemed to fit right in when he joined a group of drunk workmen. The group was harassing other revelers, particularly the young ladies that hurried along. Victims of the abuse hurried along as they held more tightly to their escorts and stuck closely to their groups as they attempted to ignore the cat calls. The workmen didn't notice that their number had increased by one as they started a brawl with one small group of passersby. As a result, a couple of the mob's men had to be picked back up out of the gutter, along with a few extra bruises, by their laughing friends.

As the troublemakers made their way farther down the street, with Ben stumbling along in their midst, a trio apparated on the corner across the street. This new trio consisted of a young woman with two young men. The drunks had not noticed them because Ben was calling their attention to the shop-window behind them. The looks on the three young faces were harrowed and scared. They shuffled almost as one down the street toward Ben's group, although on the opposite side of the street.

As they made their way, the trio ducked into an alleyway. Ben steered the group to the curb and stalled them there for a couple of minutes as they argued how odd it was that the boots he was wearing were so old that they had become yellowed. When they started to try to remember his name, and recognize the fact that Ben wasn't really a part of their group, he tried to change the subject. They began asking each other who had invited him along. He distracted them again when two of the three from the trio that had apparated several minutes before, re-emerged from the alleyway and proceeded to walk down the street. He pointed out the newcomers to several of the drunks that had started to think too strenuously about who he was.

The workmen spotted the two, like a pack of hyenas, they zeroed in on their prey. Their quarry was the young woman and one of the young men who were unlucky enough to walk down this stretch of the busy street. Luckily, the drunk workmen had not noticed them earlier so did not notice that one was missing. These two soon-to-be victims were a bit oddly dressed and they could be faintly heard from their position on the opposite side of the street as they walked. Their conversation seemed to indicate that they were lost and were in unfamiliar territory. As they shuffled along, failing to be inconspicuous, Ben called out. "All right darling?" The rest of the workmen that hadn't been paying attention immediately fixated upon the two. "Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come have a pint!" The young man had red hair. The jeers and catcalls erupted from the group as the young couple looked up, with somewhat desperate and fearful looks in their eyes. As the young man made a move that could have been interpreted as a challenge, the young woman dragged him into an open coffee shop that had been behind them. The door waggled and swung shut slowly as they went in, almost as if some unseen person had snuck in behind them. The drunks laughed.

As several of the workmen seemed to make after them, Ben grabbed them by the cloaks and said, "those kids are nothing worth messing with. Let's get going to the pub." Most of the workmen looked up and wholeheartedly agreed that they should move along.

As they stepped back up onto the sidewalk, however, two or three of the stubborn drunks insisted on starting an argument amongst themselves about whether to follow the two into the café. Pushing and shoving ensued and a few of them ended up back on the ground in the street and on the sidewalk. The winners decided to have a go at descending upon the couple in the coffee shop.

Just at that moment, a group of nine evil-looking wizards apparated with a flourish in the middle of the street. The drunks came to an abrupt halt as they stepped into the street. They gawked at these oddly robed characters. With a wave of a wand, all the passersby, quickly forgot about the young couple and the spectacle of nine wizards appearing out of nowhere. Car traffic seemed to divert itself away from the area as well.

The leader of the wizarding group glanced around and took tally of the people and the open businesses. He called several of his lackeys to search through the lingerers for wizards who could have triggered the taboo. He called to two wizards, "Dolohov, Rowle," he growled. "Go check out that café." The leader had subsequently intended to send other wizards toward other storefronts, but was distracted before he could delegate.

As Dolohov and Rowle sprinted across the sidewalk, they magically attired themselves to fit in with the customers inside, and they entered the café. At that same moment, Ben stepped off of the sidewalk and into the street to confront the leader with a cheerful "Hey, Merry Dol!" with a big smile on his face, and was instantly surrounded.

"What do we have here?" intoned the leader. " I'm not sure I know your name." he noticed that Ben's blue jacket was a bit old fashioned looking.

"I've got quite a few names at this stage of my life. Most of the folks around here call me… Tom." The leader was immediately annoyed by the extraordinarily cheerful and sure demeanor of this unfamiliar, elderly-looking, wizard.

"Well, Mr. Tom. You have just made your last mistake, old man." The leader said as he raised his wand.

"Oh good, because I have become so tired of making mistakes." Ben kept his cheerful look, but furled his eyebrows in a bit of a jokingly questioning manner as he continued his retort. "Hey, how could you possibly know that I won't ever make another mistake. I think you're being a bit optimistic." Ben replied with a sarcastic tone.

At that moment, a scuffle could be heard coming from the café. The lights inside went out and the window blinds shuttered and went dark. The leader turned toward the café, briefly.

"Pay no attention to that. You've got bigger problems. Namely, me." threatened Ben.

"There are nine of us, old man." Said the leader as he turned back toward Ben. "Come quietly and maybe you'll not be killed."

"Seven." Said Ben.

"Seven? What do you mean by that?" replied the leader.

"There's only seven of ye." At that moment, the leader indicated to one of his henchmen with a faint wave, directing him to apprehend Ben. The assailant stepped forward, tripped on a loose brick, fell and hit his head on the ground. "Six." Ben corrected himself.

The next few seconds became even more confusing. Quite unluckily, moments before, a car that had been parked with the brake improperly set, had rolled from its parking spot several streets over. At that moment, it came careening silently around the corner and ran into two more of the evil wizards.

"Four." Ben said, still smiling.

Two of the remaining wizards ran and bent as they stooped to help their fallen brethren. They subsequently fell unconscious, falling on top of their friends. There was no cause apparent to explain their sudden condition.

"Two." Continued Ben.

In the next moment, the leader and the remaining wizard standing around Ben realized their advantage was fading, fast. They lifted their wands as Ben lifted his hands and clapped over his head. A sphere of light imploded in upon the group and when the flash dimmed, only Ben was standing. Several of the unconscious wizards remained lying on the ground. One was pinned beneath the stray automobile. Ben waved his wand, and all of the evil wizards, and the car disappeared.

At that moment, the lights came on in the café and the shutters opened. Three people were visible inside the dining area, rushing to and fro, hauling heavy objects. The fussy motion was reminiscent of trying to quickly tidy up for unexpected guests. The young woman that had fled into the café could be seen peeking out the door as she unlocked it. In a frantic pivot, she turned and three silhouettes that could be seen through the window, disappeared.

"Naught." Said Ben, as he stood gazing toward the front of the café, and then vanished. There was nobody but the breeze to hear the end of his count.


End file.
